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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 







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INTRODUCTION 



TO THE 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION, 



DESIGNED FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS. 



BY JONATHAN BARBER, 

MEMBER OF THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF SURGEONS, LONDON J 
INSTRUCTER IN ELOCUTION IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY. 



— ^©^— 



BOSTON : 
MARSH, CAPEN & LYON. 

1834, 



F. 



.• f V, 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1834, by Marsh, 
Capen & Lyon, and in the Clerk's office of the District Court of 
Massachusetts. 



/W-J 



Printed by Kane & Co. 

127 Washington Street. 



PREFACE 



It is now four j'ears since the first publication of my 
* Grammar of Elocution. 5 The design of that work was 
the bringing of the system of Elocution into a compass , 
fitted for the instruction to be given in our colleges and 
higher schools. At that time it was my intention to follow 
it up immediately with another work, like this which is now 
offered to the public, the object of which might be to intro- 
duce the study of the system in our common schools. Nu- 
merous engagements have concurred in preventing me from 
earlier fulfilling the original design. 

It is gratifying to observe the increasing interest which 
both our colleges and schools are beginning to take in the 
subject of this little work. Dr. Rush's large and valuable 
work has reached a second edition. The second edition of 
the Grammar has been above a year in the market, and the 
circulation of both is continually extending in quarters 
where their effects cannot fail of being felt. The notice of 
our teachers, generally, begins to be directed to the system 
they contain, and this is all which its supporters desire 
for it. 

The few pages of this work are by no means offered to 
the public as containing a complete expose of the philoso- 



IV PREFACE. 

phy of the human voice. It is intended strictly for the 
youngest pupils who can be brought with any advantage to 
the study. The Grammar is designed for pupils more ad- 
vanced. Dr. Rush's work should be read and studied by 
those who design to teach. J. B. 



CONTENTS 



Page. 

Preface, . . . . . - . . . . 3 

Introduction, ....... 9 

Chapter I. On the Vocal Elements, ... 22 

Chapter II. On the Elements of Expression, 33 

Chapter III. On Pitch, Concrete and Radical, 36 

Chapter IV. On Concrete Pitch, or Slide, . 38 
Chapter V. Do. continued, . . . .45 

Chapter VI. On Discrete or Radical Pitch, . 49 

Chapter VII. Do. continued, .... 54 

Chapter VIII. On Force, .... 56 

Chapter IX. Do. continued. Stress, Radical Stress, 61 

Vanishing Stress, .... 64 

Compound Stress, . . . 65 

Median Stress, .... 66 

Chapter X. On Quantity, .... 67 

Chapter XI. On Quality, . . . . . 72 

Chapter XII. On Accent, .... 75 

Chapter XIII. On Analysis, . . . S3 

APPENDIX. 

Tables for practice on the Vocal Elements, . 95 
' do. for practice on the Simple Slides, . . 100 



VI CONTENTS. 

Pase. 

Tables for practice on the Waves, . . . 100 

do. for practice on Radical Step, or Abruptness, 101 
do. for practice on Vanishing and Compound Stress, ib. 

do. for practice on Median Stress, ib. 

Exercises on Quantity, ib. 

EXERCISES. 

Reply of Mr. Pitt, . . . . . . . 102 

Saint" Paul's Defence before Agrippa, . . 104 

Song of Moses, 107 

The Exile of Erin, 109 

A Conversational Pleasantry, . . . . 113 

Battle of Hastings. Lingard, . . . . 116 

Discovery of America by Columbus. Robertson, . 121 

Character of Cromwell, 129 

Conclusion of Dr. Rush's Chapter on the Mode of 

Instruction in Elocution, . . . . 133 v 
Industry necessary to the attainment of Eloquence, 

Ware. ....... 136 

On Duelling. E. Nott, 139 

The Raising of Lazarus, 141 

Death of Eli, 144 

Extract from Erskine's Speech on Paine's Age of 

Reason, 146 

Speech of Adams. Webster, .... 149 
Extract from Mr. Webster's Speech on the Greek 

Revolution 151 

Speechof Mr. Plunket, . . ... . . 153 

Speech of Mr. Fox in the British Parliament, . 159 

The Confession, from the Episcopal Service, . 164 



CONTENTS. 



POETRY. 



Gertrude. Mrs. Hemans, . 165 

Meeting of Satan and Death, .... 167 

Introduction to Paradise Lost. Milton, . . 170 

Epistle to Joseph Hill, Esq* . Cowper, . . 171 

The Country Bumpkin and Razor Seller, . 174 



ERRATA. 

Page 109, 1. 12 from top, for * | 7 till | thy * &c. read | 7 7 | till thy &c. 
u 149, 1. 15 from bottom, after the word ' interest ' insert a comma. 
" 154, 1. 18 from bottom, for 'results' read reverts. 
" 157, 1. 2 from bottom, for 'our dissensions, through this black' fcc. read our 

dissensions. Through this black &c. 
" " bottom line, for 'hare collected over us. I see the' &.c. read have col- 
lected over us, X see the &c. 



INTRODUCTION. 



Elocution is not yet fully admitted into the number 
of acknowledged sciences. A few years ago, indeed, 
there were hardly any to be found who would allow of 
its utility at all. A great change in this respect has 
been lately taking place ; but even now no small num- 
ber continue to avow themselves unbelievers in it. — 
They seem to fancy that good speaking must, like hon- 
est Dogberry's reading and writing, 6 come by nature ;' 
that he who possesses natural facility will of course 
speak well, while he who has it not is doomed to remain 
forever a mere bungler. 

It is the more difficult to combat this idea, because, 
like most other errors, it contains a slight admixture of 
truth. In Elocution, as in every other science, natural 
talent is no doubt required for the attainment of extra- 
ordinary proficiency. There are many persons to 
whom it would be impossible to give any notion of its 
higher beauties, just as there are many who never can 
be taught to appreciate fully the sister arts of music, 
painting, or sculpture. There are even some who can- 
not be taught at all, just as there are some who can- 
not be brought to distinguish notes in music, or colors 
in painting. Almost any one, indeed, may enter on a 
2 



10 INTRODUCTION. 

course of instruction in Elocution with at least as good 
a prospect of success as he could reasonably entertain 
in pursuing any other of the fine arts. What though 
none but the highly gifted can reach the first rank, — 
is this any reason why they alone should make the effort 
to escape the lowest ? What though some two or three 
in the thousand cannot rise at all, — is this a sufficient 
reason why all the rest should lie down contented for- 
ever to conceal their natural defects by bearing them 
company ? Singers and performers of great respecta- 
bility are manufactured every day by study, from 
among the middle class of musical men. Why then, 
in an art which all must practise, well or ill, according 
as they may be proficients in it, (and such is the art ol 
Elocution,) why, we ask, should not every one attempt, 
at least, to cultivate the powers he has, to their utmost ? 
But there are many persons, who, though they do 
not thus object to Elocution altogether, would yet, per- 
haps, in casting their eyes over the pages of this work 
or of the Grammar, denounce the system they contain, 
cs much too complex for their learning. They prefer 
the old vague terms of rising and falling inflexion, to 
the precise nomenclature introduced by Dr. Rush. — 
His analysis they think too difficult of comprehension ; 
and therefore they choose rather to employ undefinable 
words to convey undefined ideas. But this compari- 
son of systems proceeds on a most unfair basis. Is one 
system really better than another, merely because it 
ives the learner fewer names and scantier directions? 
Surely not. The only question we have a right to ask, 
is, Which is the system of Nature ? When we have 
settled this point, our inquiries are ended. All we have 



o 



INTRODUCTION. 11 

to do is to submit to nature, to learn her system ; for 
we may rest assured we shall never make a better. 

Is it a fact that nature's systems are always simple ? 
Let the theory of music serve as an example. Who 
that has ever studied it scientifically, with all its rules 
of time, accent, melody, harmony, discord, and ex- 
pression, (and be it remembered this is the only way to 
understand music so as to compose it) will ever apply 
to it the epithet of simple ? Who would not smile at 
the folly of the tyro, who should, on that account 
alone, decline its study ? Who would not more than 
smile, if, after passing by the true and complex system 
of nature, he were to take up with some paltry and 
disjointed fractions of it, in hopes by their aid to make 
himself a musical composer with less labor ? Nor is 
the case different in any of the other arts. To com- 
prehend the laws of perspective, without which no rules 
can be given to direct to practical excellence in paint- 
ing, requires an acquaintance with no small portion of 
the abstrusities of mathematics. The only way to over- 
come such difficulties, is to meet them where they are, 
not to endeavor to forget their existence. 

It is on this ground that we take our stand in defend- 
ing this system of Elocution. Simple or complex, it is 
the scheme of nature. The directions which it gives 
are not a whit more refined than those which nature, 
carefully observed, presents to us. If those who ob- 
ject to them, would submit to follow out this careful 
observation, instead of suffering their prejudices or idle- 
ness to contradict the experience of those who have 
done so, they would soon be convinced of the fact. 
Until this is done, the old empirical system will not fail 
to find supporters. 



12 INTRODUCTION. 

What one point, then, is there in this system, of 
which it can be said with truth, that nature does not re- 
cognise it ? An anonymous critic, eminent no doubt in 
his own line, but far from an adept, as we venture to 
think, in elocution, has objected, in a recent review of 
the Grammar, to the vocal elements, as they are enu- 
merated at the outset. He tells us, that ' to utter the 
sounds of the consonants as distinct sounds ' he holds 
' to be an impossibility, and directions for doing so, 
and descriptions of them, to be not only futile but 
likely to endanger the formation of a habit of harsh 
utterance.' What, however, are we to think of the 
degree of attention with which this reviewer, who in- 
sists on the exclusive t imitation of nature,' has in re- 
ality observed her, when, confounding the sound of ' m ' 
as heard in 'm-an' with the name of the letter l em,' 
he expresses, three lines after, h : s surprise that it should 
ever have been likened ' to the lowing of an ox ? ' 
What are we to think of the proportion which his hab- 
its of observation and reflection bear to those of witti- 
cism, when we find, three pages after, that he cannot 
see how Demosthenes could have learned the sound of 
the trilled ! r ' (in ' r-apture ') by imitating the dog, 
' unless the dogs of ancient Greece spoke a language 
very different from the bow-wow-wow of the canine 
race of modern days ? ' Did he never, in any of his 
perambulations by day or night, hear the cheering 
sound of a i canine ' growl 6 * Let any one explain in 
what way it is possible to say i man ' without actually 
giving, distinctly or indistinctly, as the case may be, 
the three sounds c m ' ' a ' ' ?i,' and we will consent to 
strike out the consonantal elements from the table. Let 



INTRODUCTION. 13 

any one show in what respect it can be better, for the pur- 
poses of ensuring distinct articulation, never to attempt 
their separate utterance, and we will recommend thn 
pupil to take this easy method of avoiding too great 
harshness in his pronunciation : till then, we abide by 
what we think the scheme of nature. 

Nor is the list of slides and waves, given in the two 
chapters on Concrete Pitch, in any degree imaginary. 
The difference between the slide on the word * no, (I 
won't ') and that on ' who ? ' is a real one, and is made 
for real and definite purposes. It is easy to say the 
list given is a long one ; it is not quite so easy to prove 
it too long. No one, we venture to assert, who will 
only listen once to each of those we have enumerated, 
will find any difficulty in perceiving that no two are 
alike, either in sound or meaning. No one, possessed 
of the musical talent required for the task, if he will 
take the pains to analyze them musically, will discover 
any inappropriateness in their names, or errors in their 
definitions. Why then are we called on to reject them, 
and to be content with ' rising and falling inflections? 
words used now to express one meaning, now another, 
never defined, in fact wholly unintelligible ? Till it can 
be shown that two such terms are in truth sufficient to 
designate intelligibly and without confusion all the mul- 
tiplied combinations of radical and concrete pitch in 
speech, we cannot adopt them. Till the more precise 
arrangement given here and in the Grammar, is proved 
actually faultly ; till experiment fair and decisive has 
overthrown,what experiment alone originally discovered, 
we cannot consent to abandon it, however some may 
cavil at its refinements. 
2* 



14 INTRODUCTION 

The same line of argument holds good on all the 
other points of the system as on these. The modifi- 
cations of force and stress, the essential conditions of 
agreeable long quantity, the rules of accent, the prin- 
ciples of analysis, are all of them 10 be found in na- 
ture. We are not at liberty to reject or pass by any of 
them. 

But it may be asked, Is nothing to be done, then, to 
render the study of elocution easy ? Are we, on ac- 
count of the general difficulty of the way, to leave 
untouched the many stumbling-blocks which the road 
presents ? By no means. All we say is, Let the road 
go really through the intended country. If the region 
be hilly, make the road as level as you can ; but do 
not carry it through another district. Any thing that 
may be done to render easy the way of communica- 
ting truth, difficult or not, it will be well to do. Any 
departure from the real truths of a science, to something 
else more specious, is mere trifling ; it is worse than 
trifling ; it is deception. Whether or not all that can 
be done in this respect has really been accomplished, 
in the Grammar and in this work, is another question, 
which it is not competent for their author to decide. 
The utmost he can do, is, to acknowledge the attempt. 

But still there may remain a separate objection to the 
peculiar design of the present work. Is it not impos- 
sible to teach young children an art, which, on our own 
showing, is so far from being the simple, straight-forward 
affair, contrived in the old books of elocution ? Why 
not be content with the endeavor to make young men 
good speakers, without thus forcing the task on the 
attention of the child ? The answer is a simple one. 



INTRODUCTION. 15 

It is in childhood that bad habits of delivery are least 
deeply rooted, that the voice is found to be most flexi- 
ble, and best fitted for improvement. As the pupil ad- 
vances in years, his bad habits are all the while increas- 
ing in number and in force ; and the effort requisite to 
overthrow them is consequently becoming in the same 
proportion more severe. Practice the child on a course 
of exercises fitted to prevent him from ever falling into 
these mistakes, teach him that certain ways of speaking 
convey always certain meanings, make him read and 
talk with a constant reference to this knowledge, and 
and you will have gained a most important point. The 
great source of difficulty will be then removed. You 
will have the child thus previously trained comparatively 
free from faults in his elocution, and therefore ready, as 
he grows older, to appreciate and attain the highest ex- 
cellencies of speech. Indeed, till some such means 
be generally resorted to, we know not how a fair trial 
can be made of the utility of instruction in elocution. 
As long as men are left, for twenty years or more to 
acquire without restraint any defects of utterance they 
may chance to pick up, it will continue next to im- 
possible even to reform their faults, by a few months only 
of study and practice. The earlier the required pre- 
paration is begun, the further may the after process be 
pushed. 

And all this can be done, nay, is done, in the kin- 
dred art of music. All the mysteries of musical science 
are now actually in process of communication to large 
classes of mere children in ibis very city. These 
children have nothing of importance left unexplained 
or unpractised. They are exercised in the most thor- 



16 INTRODUCTION. 

ough and elementary manner, beginning at the very 
rudiments, and proceeding regularly through the whole, 
no part of the system being left till fully mastered. — 
The s-uccess of this plan, as we need not say to any 
who have ever attended Mr. Lowell Mason's juve; 
nile classes, is surprising. The performances of the 
children are correct and tasteful, their acquaintance 
with the principles of the art they practise, astonishing. 
And all this is done with no great labor to the pupil, 
and with no great loss of time to the teacher. The 
entire secret lies, in attending strictly to one thing at a 
time. This great principle of the Pestalozzian system, 
we have endeavored to extend to the course of exer- 
cises directed in this work. 

Nor is it in music only, that the application of this 
principle has been found of such signal benefit to the 
young. All the superiority of the modern improve- 
ments in education, over the old plans which they have 
superseded, may be traced to their adoption of it. — 
The system of mental arithmetic, for example, con- 
tained in the very valuable arithmetical works of Mr. 
Colburn, is based entirely on it. The unprecedented 
success which has followed their introduction into 
almost the earliest schools in the country, is an unan- 
swerable argument in its favor. 

So much then for the objections which may be 
brought against the utility of the early course of prac- 
tice which we recommend in Elocution. We may now 7 
ask in return, Is not the study of the last importance ? 
We have shown already, that it is only by beginning 
our instruction in this department early, that we can 
hope ever to reap its full advantages. It may now be 



INTRODUCTION. 17 

added, that the department itself is not by any means a 
merely optional one. Music and the other fine arts, 
however pleasing, and even sometimes useful, are yet 
far from being essential to a man's success in life. — 
They are accomplishments, elegant indeed, and well 
worth considerable trouble in attaining, but still nothing 
but accomplishments. But with Elocution every man 
must have to do. It is an essential part of every 
body's business. To some it may no doubt be of 
more consequence than to others; but to all it must be, 
one day or other, an object of some consequence. — 
And if every one must on occasion be repeatedly called 
to read and speak, under circumstances which may ren- 
der it to their interest to do it well, is it not advisable 
that every one should take that course, by which alone 
they can reasonably hope to insure the power, whenever 
it may be wanted ? 

There are two circumstances connected with this 
mode of teaching Elocution, which, as they are very 
commonly lost sight of, it may be well to notice. The 
first is, we do not profess to have invented a ivay, by 
studying which a man may speak well w T hen he tries. 
Our object is to show the pupil the way, the only way, 
in which he or any body else can speak effectively. — 
The modes of expressing feeling, which we have enu- 
merated, are all natural, the very same which every 
one has to use, in order naturally to express them. How 
then can a knowledge of them make a man's delivery 
artificial ? 

The second point is, that we do not direct the pupil 
to be thinking of his elocution, at the time when he 
may be really engaged in public speaking. It is a 



18 INTRODUCTION. 

point on which we insist, as strenuously as the opposers of 
our system can, that any one who does so give attention 
to delivery, will be formal and artificial. A man's whole 
soul must, all the time he is speaking, be devoted to his 
subject, in order that he may perfectly understand and 
thoroughly feel what he has to say. If for a single 
sentence his attention wander from the matter to the 
manner, his ability to do it justice will be materially 
diminished. But what of this? A man may surely so 
practise his voice before he comes to speak, as to feel 
justly confident, that he can never fail to express by it 
the very shade of feeling, which he wishes to communi- 
cate. It is to the attainment of this excellence by. pre- 
vious labor, that we urge the student of our syetem. 
The accomplished fencer never bestows a thought on 
his thrusts and parries, at the time when he is engaged 
in the performance of his most difficult feints. The 
orator does not call to mind the canons of the rhetori- 
cal art, which he has learnt years , before, and to which 
his practice is yet all in strict conformity. Is it impos- 
sible or unwise to do the very same in respect of Elo- 
cution, which all acknowledge should be done in every 
other department ? 

The mode by which we propose to accomplish our 
object is, strictly and exclusively, that of previous prac- 
tice. A few remarks on the nature and extent of the 
practice required, will be all we shall offer to conclude 
this apology for Elocution. 

Delivery naturally divides itself into two distinct 
branches 3 — the correct and elegant utterance of all the 
sounds or words, to which a meaning has been given by 
conventional agreement, and the appropriate expression 



INTRODUCTION. 19 

of the feelings of the mind by those means which na- 
ture has provided, and which she has rendered equally 
necessary to all her subjects. For example, — if we 
wish to repeat the sentence, 'Thou art the man,' in a 
proper manner, we shall have to direct the attention, 
first to the articulation of the words, and next to the 
expression of the meaning. Any mispronunciation of 
the words, will be an offence against the conventional 
authority, which has settled and imposed them. Any 
erroneous communication of the meaning, will be the 
result of a departure from the natural canons of deliv- 
ery. A sentence like the one just given will admit of 
many meanings, according as the natural elements of 
expression may be used by the person who reads it. 
We may make it wholly unemphatic, or, if we please, 
we may speak it as a positive denunciation. It may 
even be made a question, ' Thou art the man ? ' and the 
question may have any degree of earnestness we may 
like to give it. It may be read angrily or sorrowfully. 
It may have the attention directed to any one of the 
words in it at pleasure : ' Thou are the man,' 6 Thou 
art the man,' he. Any of these changes, (and they 
are a few only of those which might be enumerated,) 
are to be effected entirely by the natural modes of ex- 
pression by the voice and gestures. 

The first step, then, in the gymnastics of Delivery is 
the acquisition of a perfectly distinct articulation ; the 
second is the obtaining a command over all the other 
^unctions of the voice, and over those motions of the 
body which are useful in supporting their effect. Elo- 
cution, in its common sense, does not include the last 
mentioned item. This is referred to under the head 



20 INTRODUCTION. 

of Gesture. In this work, nothing is said of it. The 
pupil may be referred, after he has mastered the purely- 
elocutionary system given here and in the Grammar, to 
another little treatise of mine expressly on this subject, 
which will, I am satisfied, prove useful to any who 
would put this last finish to their mode of delivery. 

With respect to the precise* character of the illus- 
trations and exercises contained in the succeeding chap- 
ters, it may be of use to add one or two hints to those 
persons who may honor them by employing them in 
their teaching. If we are not mistaken, there will be 
found very few 7 , if any, sentences in the body of this 
little book, which the pupils will not do well to under- 
stand and learn. The explanations may not perhaps 
be in every case in themselves sufficiently copious to 
meet the intelligence of some children. They have 
all been written with a view to careful recitation, and 
the great effort has throughout been to condense them. 
Wherever it may be found necessary, the teacher should 
enlarge on them till they are clearly understood. Noth- 
ing can be gained without this. The selection of ex- 
amples, by which to illustrate the various movements of 
the voice, has proved no easy task. It has been made 
on the principle of always giving the pupil trial sen- 
tences, of such a character as that their meaning should 
be readily perceived, and their proper intonation recog- 
nised. A greater number might have been advisable, 
in order to suit the different capacities of various indi- 
viduals ; but such an attempt would have increased the 
bulk of the work, beyond its reasonable limits. The 
teacher's ingenuity must be tasked to invent more, on 
the pattern furnished him. The degree to which he 



INTRODUCTION. 21 

will be called to exercise it, will be decided by the tal- 
ents of his class. No movement of the voice should 
be passed by, till the pupils have obtained a perfect 
perception of its sound and uses. In many cases one 
example may suffice ; in others, perhaps, several may 
be needed. 

Another point, which must not on any account be lost 
sight of, is the careful practice of all the prescribed ex- 
ercises. Practice is the sine qua non of Elocution. 
If in any department of it, it be omitted, or even 
slurred over, the inevitable result will be failure. The 
pupil may have learnt the explanations, and understood 
them ; he may have listened to, and laughed at, the 
examples; but if he have not practised all the exer- 
cises, till he has overcome their difficulties altogether, 
his own delivery will be but very little improved, how- 
ever much he may have increased his power of criti- 
cising others. 

After the pupil has passed through this course of 
training, and not before, let him be brought to reading. 
The pieces given in this book may serve as a first 
selection. They are of very different characters, se- 
lected to exemplify all, or nearly all, the different spe- 
cies of reading. It is not intended that the scholars 
should merely read them through, in the ordinary fash- 
ion of schools. Every sentence should be separately 
analysed, and the class should be required to say what 
intonation they think the precise idea to be conveyed 
demands. When this point is decided, let the sentence 
be read, and repeated till its intonation has become 
familiar. After every sentence in the piece has been 
thus gone over, the whole may be then taken up together 



22 INTRODUCTION. 

with advantage. The old mode of school reading 
and declaiming is perhaps worse than useless. 

On these principles the author of this little work has 
uniformly conducted his instruction. Perhaps he may 
be authorised, without undue presumption, to recom- 
mend the adoption of his course to others. 



INTRODUCTION 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION 



CHAPTER I. 

ON THE VOCAL ELEMENTS. 

By the word element we mean the simplest form of 
anything. Thus, when we speak of the elements of 
geometry, we mean the truths of that science stated in 
their simplest form. The elements of algebra or arith- 
metic are the simplest truths of those sciences. In 
every science, the elements should be first taught. 

The elements of Elocution are its simplest truths. 
They are of different kinds. 

The first kind of elements are those which we call 
the vocal elements. In order to speak well, it is first of 
all necessary to pronounce correctly. Now there is 
only one effectual way of learning to pronounce dis- 
tinctly every word in a language ; and that is, to ac- 
quire by practice the power of giving every simple 
sound, of which these words may be made up. These 
simple sounds we call the elements of articulation, or 
the vocal elements. 

Suppose we take the word ' matter ' as an example 



24 VOCAL ELEMENTS. 

Most persons perhaps would think it was made up of 
only two sounds — ' mat,' and ' er.' These, however, 
are not either of them simple sounds, because, as may 
be easily shown, they can be themselves divided. In 
the syllable c mat,' the first sound heard is c m,' pro- 
duced by closing the lips in a particular manner ; the 
second is that of 6 a ' in the word ' a-t : ' the third is that 
of ' t ' in the word ' t-ake.' In the second syllable, 
' er,' we have two sounds, ' e ' as in the word ' u-nder,' 
and ' r ' as in the word ' oa-r.' 

Tn this word it so happens that the vocal elementsare 
almost the same in number with the letters. This is not, 
however, always the case. In the word c straight,' the 
vocal elements are ' s ' (as in ' hi-ss 5 ), c t,' ' r ' (as in 
r-ow'), ' a' (as in fc a-le '), and ' t '. The letters < igh ' 
have no corresponding sounds. 

The same letter in different words often stands for 
very different vocal elements. The sounds heard at the 
beginning of the words, ' a-le,' *a-ll,' ' a-rm,' and ' a-t,' 
are all represented by the letter ' a.' In like manner, 
one element is often represented by different letters. 
The sound at the beginning of the words, ' ea-rl,' 
' I-rving,' and 6 u-nder,' is exactly the same, though it 
is written in three different ways. In a perfect alpha- 
bet, every sound would have its own letter, and every 
letter its own sound ; but as ours is not a perfect alpha- 
bet, we must be content to remember the difference 
between a vocal element, or simple sound, and an 
alphabetic element, or letter. 

If now we look back again to the first example, 
6 mat,' we shall see that the three elements which com- 
pose it are very unlike one another. The sound ( a' 



VOCAL ELEMENTS. 25 

is made with the mouth and throat open, and may 
therefore be pronounced as loud and full as the voice 
will admit. The element c m' has the lips closed, and 
the sound confined. We cannot give it as much force 
or fulness as the other. The last element, ' t, 5 has a 
sound like that which we should use in whispering either 
of the others. 

Those elements, which like ' a ' may be sounded 
with the mouth and throat entirely open, are called 
6 tonic elements.' The alphabetic elements, or letters, 
used to represent them, are called ; vowels.' 

Those elements, which like c m' are sounded with 
any part of the mouth closed, are called ' sub tonics..' 
Those which like ' t ' have in addition the whispering 
sound, are called ' atonies.' The subtonic and atonic 
elements are represented by those letters which we 
call consonants. 

The tonic elements used in the English language are 
14 in number. Of these, 8 may be sounded long, the 
other 6 must be pronounced short. 

The 8 long tonics are, 

1 ee, as in the words ee-Z, m-e, ea-t, bel-ie-ve 

2 oo, oo-ze, m-o-ve, tr-tce, 1-w-te 

3 a, a-le, ai-r, pr-m/ 

4 a', a-11, 1-aw-d, 1-o-rd, aw-ful 

5 a ;/ , a-rm, 1-em-nch, a-fter 

6 o, o-ld, n-o, oa-k, ow-xi 

7 ou, OK-r, v-ow [ st ~2/ e 

8 i, i-sle, 1-ie, th-?/-me, beautif-t/. 



26 VOCAL ELEMENTS. 

The 6 short tonics are, 

1 i ; , as in the words i-t, w-i-11, beaut-y 

2 u, p-u-11. f-oo-t, w-o-lf 

3 e, ^-dge, m-e-t, h-ea-d 

4 o', o-bject, n-o-t, o-live 

5 a /7/ , a-t, m-a-n [w-nder, mann-a 

6 e 7 , h-e-r, h-ea-rd, f-i-rm, w-o-rd. 

It may be observed that the first four of the long 
tonics answer very nearly, if not exactly, to the first 
four of the short ones. The word ' eat,' (ee-t) short- 
ened, becomes 'it,' (i'-t). The sound of c ooze' (oo-z) 
becomes that of ' foot,' (f-w-t) ; c age' (a-dzh) is 
changed to ' edge,' (e-dzh), and ' all ' (a'-l) into ' ol,' 
(o'-l). 

Of the eight long tonics, only two are really mono- 
thongs, i. e. only two end with the same sound as that 
on which they begin. These two are placed at the 
head of the list ; * ee ' and < oo.' 

The other six are diphthongs ; i. e. they begin on 
one sound, and end on another ; thus, 

a and i end on the sound ee 
a / a ,v « u e / 

o ou " " oo 

These diphthongal elements are to be distinguished 
from the diphthongs, as they are commonly reckoned in 
grammar. They consist, it is true, of two sounds ; but 
then the first of them cannot be given without the 
second, though the second may be sounded apart from 
the first. The sounds 'ay,' ' oy,' or l eu,' as in c feudal/ 



VOCAL ELEMENTS. 27 

(f-eu-dal) which might be called diphthongs in grammar, 
are not to be so considered in elocution, because they 
consist each of them of two perfectly distinct sounds, 
either of which may be sounded by itself. Thus, ' ay ' 
is made up of a /; and i 7 , \ oy ' of o' and i 7 , and *eu ' of 
\' and oo. 

The subtonic elements are 1 5 in number. 

1 b, as in the words 6-old, b-ul-b, El-6e 

2 d, rf-are, ha-eZ 

3 g, g-ive, ha-g- 

4 1, Z-ow, a-ZZ 

5 m, m-ine, ai-m 

6 n, n-ot, ow-w 

7 ng, si-ng 

8 r, ai-r, oa-r 

9 r', r-ow, r-uin, b-r-ow 

10 v, fl-ow, sa-ue, li-ve, ph-izl 

11 w, w-ot, w-ent 

12 y, y-et [-X-erxes 

13 z, *-one, ha-ze, song-*, rai-se, 

14 th, th-en, soo-//ie, smoo-th 

15 zb, a-z-ure, preci-sz-on 

The atonic elements are 9 in number. 

1 p, # as in the words p-ull, ha-p, a-pe 

2 t, tf-ake, sa-£, la-£e 

* The three atonic elements, p, t, and k, cannot be uttered audi- 
bly by themselves. They will require some other element to be 
sounded with them, p-i,l ~p, t-s, a. ni t-, k-l, 1-k, o f -k. It does not sig- 
nify whether the other element be a tonic, a subtonic, or even any 
other atonic. The union of any other element will enable us 
to sound them clearly enough. 



28 VOCAL ELEMENTS. 

3 kj Ar-ind, loo-A;, c-ow, a-cAe, lo-c& 

4 £ /-ace, i-/, o-/f, ^A-ysic, fau-gh 

5 wh, wA-at, ivh-en 

6 h, A-it, A-orse 

^ s, s-aw, hi-ss, era-se 

8 th', tfA-ink, ear-zlA [na-^'-on 

9 sh, $A-ake, har-sA, o-ce-an, gra-ci-ous, 

There are several combinations of these elements 
which may be easily mistaken for simple sounds; e. g. 

The combination d-zh in the wordsj-oy, a-ge, stran-ge 
t-sh cA-ur-cA, cA-ance 

g-z e-#-ample, e-#-empt 

k-s, ve-#, ta-# 

k-w qu-een, gw-antity. 



The pupils must be exercised in repeating all these ele- 
ments, by themselves, as well as in the words in 
which they are exhibited, until each of them can be 
sounded correctly and with ease* After this practice 
is completed, let them proceed to the two following ta- 
bles. * The first contains a number of words which 

* The Grammar of Elocution gives directions for a course ©f 
exercises on the Vocal Elements, more copious than was thought 
necessary for a class of children. Adults, whose vicious pronun- 
ciation is more confirmed, would probably find the tables here giv- 
en insufficient. Any teacher, who may wish to carry out his in 
struction in this branch farther than they will carry him, may be 
referred therefore to the larger work. Oral explanations may easily 
place its tables before the class. Probably, however, few will find 
such a step necessary with children. 



VOCAL ELEMENTS. 29 

from some cause or other are frequently mispronounced. 
These should be all gone over very carefully, the 
pupils being required, each in his turn, to sound all 
the vocal elements which every successive word con- 
tains ; or, in other language, to spell out, not the letters, 
but the elements of which it is made up. When the 
scholar has given the right spelling, let the whole class 
be required to sound the word, the teacher stopping 
and correcting any who may pronounce it wrong. A 
good many of the words at the beginning of the table 
are spelt into their elements, to serve as an example of 
what is to be done with the others. — The second table 
contains a number of sentences of difficult utterance. 
These must be all read with the same care, until every 
one in the class can repeat them all, without apparent 
effort, and without mistake or hesitation. 





TABLE I, 


God 


g-o'-d # 


Lord 


l-a'-r-d 


wants 


w-o'-n-t-s 


orbs 


a'-r-b-z 


offal 


o'-f-l 


awful 


a'-f-l 


nostril 


n-o'-s-t-r'-i'-l 


whelmed 


wh-e-l-m-d 


delft 


d-e-Z-/-£ 


bulb'd 


b-e'-W-d 



* The elements marked in italics are those which are most likely 
to be left out or mistaken. 



30 VOCAL ELEMENTS. 

Table I — Continued. 



bulbs 


b-e'-l-b-z 


strength 


s-t-v' -e-ng-tti 


stretch 


s-t-v'-e-t-sh 


stretch'd 


s-t-r' -e-t-sh-t 


offering 


o'-f-e'-r'-i'-ng 


thumbscrew 


th'-e'-m-s-k-r'-oo 


whisps 


wh-\'-s-p-$ 


rhythm 


x'-i'-th'-m 


Christmas 


k-r'-i'-s-m-e'-s 


terrible 


t-e-r'-i'-64 


impossible 


i'-m-p-o'-s-i'-W 


wafts 


\v-a"-f~t-s 


attempts 


a ,!, -t-e-m-t-s 


traitor 


Z-r'-a-t-e'-r 


pray 


p-r-a 


wreath'd 


r'-ee-th-d 


wreaths 


v'-ee-tti-s 


sprightly 


s-p-r'-i-t-l-i' 


through 


th'V-oo 


filch 


f-i'-l-sA 


amiable 


a-m-i'-e'-J-Z 


brow 


6-r-ou 


scream 


s-k-r'-ee-m 


screech-owl 


s-k-r'-ee-t-sh-ou-] 


breadths 


b-r'-e-d-th-s 


hedged 


h-e-d-zh-d 


bulge 


snail 


fall'st 


urged 


false 


Humphrey 



VOCAL ELEMENTS. 



31 



Table I — Continued. 



entombed 


capable 


hang'd 


respectable 


songs 


example 


harp'd 


apple 


bursts 


trumpet 


search'd 


triumph 


thistle 


burnt 


thorough 


misrule 


swerved 


sub-prior 


swivel 


thanksgiving 


travels 


uproar 


muzzle 


drawler 


spasms 


swamps 


fetch'd 


vex'd 


masks 






TABLE II. 



Whilst bloody treason flourished over us. 

The breadth thereof was ten cubits. 

Then rush'd the steed, to battle driven. 

Thou look'st from thy throne in the clouds and 
laugh'st at the storm. 

Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide. 

When shall we venture to tell what was wAispered 
to us? 



* Those words are printed in italics whieh are most frequently 
mispronounced. 



32 VOCAL ELEMENTS. 



Table II — Continued. 

Whence and what art thou, execrable shape ? 

The short and simple annals of the poor. 

Hold off your hands, gentlemen. 

His attempts were fruitless. 

Overwhelmed with whirlwinds. 

Up the high hill he heaves the huge round stone. 

The dogs barked and howVd. 

The word filch is of doubtful derivation. 

He was hedged in on every side. 

The acts of the Apostles. 

Can you say crackers, crime, cruelty, crutches ? 

The heights, depths, and breadths of the subject. 

Search the scriptures. 

Can you whet a wet razor ? 

We saw on the road large droves of cattle. 

It was the act, of all the acts of government the most 
objectionable. 

A frame of adamant. 

The attempt, and not the deed, confounds us. 

Do you mean plain or playing cards ? 

Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears the palm. 

She swore, in faith H was strange, h was wondrous 
strange, 't was pitiful, 't was wondrous pitiful. 

Boundless, endless, and sublime ! 

Mark'st thou ? 

Your healths, gentlemen. 

Round the rude ring the ragged rascal ran. 

And on their hinges grate harsh thunder. 

It is more formidable than the most clamorous oppo- 
sition. 



ELEMENTS OF EXPRESSION. 33 



Taele II — Continued. 



What an acknowledgement of the superiority of 
virtue ! 

The strength of his nostrils is terrible. 

He snarls, but dares not bite. 

Where the wild beasts find shelter, but I can find 
none. 

Have you a copy of Smith's Thucydides ? 

I thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of 
my thumb. 

Peter Piper picked a peck of pepper. 



CHAPTER II. 

ON THE ELEMENTS OF EXPRESSION. 

We come now to the consideration of the second 
class of Elements. In order to speak well, something 
more is wanted, than merely to sound the words dis- 
tinctly. We must take care to give the meaning of 
the sentences exactly. 

It is possible to give very different meanings to the 
same words, by saying them in a different manner. 
Take the sentence, i Thou art the man.' We may 
make a plain sentence of these words, without any 
emphasis, or we may make any one of the words in it 
emphatic : c Thou art the man, 5 c Thou art the man,' 
&,c. Again, we may make the sentence a question, 
4 



34 



ELEMENTS OF EXPRESSION. 



8 Thou art the man ? ' and, as before, we may either 
make the question emphatic, or we may throw the 
emphasis on any of the words. 

Still further we may utter the sentence in a hurried 
and angry, or in a slow and solemn manner; with 
great force and violence, or in a sorrowful tone. We 
may give it in a loud voice, as though it were intended 
for every body to hear it, or in a low tone, as if it 
were a secret. These are a few only of the many 
meanings, which may be given to these four simple words, 
by the voice. A good reader, then, ought not only to 
be able to sound every word correctly ; he ought to 
know always the exact meaning of what he reads, and 
also how to give that meaning, when he knows it. 

It is the business of most of the following chapters, to 
show how the different ways of using the voice, give 
different meanings to our words. To do this, we must 
explain the second kind of Elements employed in 
Elocution, the 'Elements of Expression,' as they are 
called. 

These Elements of Expression are four in number: 

I. Pitch, or the place in the musical scale, on which 
a syllable is sounded. Every sound has some place 
in the musical scale, either high or low. We all 
know of what consequence it is, to sound each syllable 
on the right note, in singing. It will be seen how im- 
portant the right use of this element is in speaking 
also. 

II. Force, or the degree of loudness, with which 
we speak. We use, in speaking, very different de- 
grees of loudness, according to the expression we 
desire to give. For instance, in the sentence ' Out 



ELEMENTS OF EXPRESSION. 35 

with you,' (said as one would say it to a dog), the word 
4 out ' has much more force given to it, than in the 
simple sentence, 6 He went out.' We shall see also 
that there are several different kinds of force required 
for particular purposes. 

III. Quantity, or the degree of time, taken up 
in uttering a syllable. How very different the words 
'Our Father, who art in heaven,' sound when uttered 
slowly, as they ought to be, from what they would if 
sounded lightly and quickly, ' Our Father, &c.' This 
difference is made by the use of Quantity. 

IV. Quality, or the kind of voice we use in 
speaking. We may speak, for instance, in a hoarse, 
gruff tone, or in a mild voice, in a whisper, or in the 
common tone of conversation. 

On every syllable we utter, we give more or less of 
each one of these four elements of expression. Every 
syllable must have some place, higher or lower, in the 
musical scale, must be sounded with more or less force, 
must take up more or less time in its utterance, and 
must be sounded with some one quality of voice. We 
shall now proceed to show, that all the varieties of 
expression, which can be given by the voice, are pro- 
duced bv the different combinations of these Elements. 



36 CONCRETE AND RADICAL PITCH. 

CHAPTER III. 

ON PITCH— CONCRETE AND RADICAL. 

The first of the Elements of Expression, then, is 
Pitch, or the place in the musical scale, which each 
sound made in speaking occupies. It is easier to 
understand what is meant by pitch, in singing, than it 
is in speaking. The distinction between the two has 
to be first explained. 

If you should strike several of the keys of an organ, 
or piano-forte, in succession, your ear w 7 ould directly 
tell you that one was higher than another ; and, also, 
that each key continued to give the same musical sound, 
all the while it was held dowm 

If, on the other hand, you should take up a violin, 
and draw your finger along, up any one of the strings, 
at the same time that you were drawing the bow across 
it, you would find the sound given does not continue 
the same from beginning to end, but keeps gradually 
rising higher and higher. In the same way, by 
moving your finger down the string, while the bow is 
passing over it, you make a similar mewing sound, 
beginning high, and becoming gradually lower. 

The difference between the notes of the organ, or 
piano, is said to be a difference in i discrete, or radical 
pitch : ' that between the beginning and end of the 
mew T ing sound on the violin, is called a difference in 
1 concrete pitchj or c slide? 

When we want to sing, we need only attend to 
differences in discrete or radical pitch; for, however 
long we sound a note in singing, it always remains the 



CONCRETE AND RADICAL PITCH. 37 

same in its musical sound,* like the note of the organ. 
When we speak, however, this is not the case. 

Take the two words c I wo'n't,' and say them with 
the passionate intonation of an angry child, c I Wo'n't.' 
Any person who has a good ear for music, will perceive 
two things in regard to the pitch of these words. First, 
the word 4 wo'n't ' begins at a higher place in the 
scale, than the word 4 I;' or, in other language, 
there is a difference in ' radical pitch' between them, 
just as there is a difference between two keys of a piano. 
Secondly, the word 'wo'n't,' instead of running on, all 
the while it is sounded, on the same note, like the 
organ, runs down a good way in the musical scale, 
between the beginning and the end, with a sound like 
that made, as we have said, on the violin. In other 
words, between the beginning and the end of the word, 
there is a manifest difference in < concrete pitchy or 
' slide.' The same thing may be seen by sounding, 
with the same expression, the words ' you Can't,' 
' he Ought,' &c. 

We have then to attend to both these kinds of pitch, 
as elements of expression. In the first place, we must 
show what differences in concrete pitch are made in 
speech, and what differences of meaning they give to 
the words ; and, in the second place, we must show 
the same things in regard to discrete pitch. 

Great care must be taken, however, before proceed- 
ing further, that every pupil clearly understands the 

* This explanation, though not in perfect accordance with Dr. 
Rush's beautiful and correct analysis of the singing voice, comes 
near enough for the purposes of elementary instruction. A more 
precise account of the nature of song, would probably be altogether 
unintelligible to children. 

4* 



38 CONCRETE PITCH. 

distinction between the two kinds of pitch. Unless he 
perfectly understands this, at the outset, the succeeding 
explanations will be wholly useless. Concrete pitch, 
or slide, refers to the difference of pitch between the 
beginning and end of the same sound or syllable, as in 
the words c wo'n't,' c can't,' c ought,' in the examples 
given. Discrete, or radical, pitch refers to the differ- 
ence of pitch, between the beginning of one sound or 
syllable and that of another, as between the words c I ' 
and ' wo'n't,' he. in the examples. 



CHAPTER IV. 

ON CONCRETE PITCH, OR SLIDE. 

SIMPLE SLIDES OF THE VOICE. 

Having thus explained the distinction between the 
two kinds of pitch used in speaking, we proceed now 
to explain each of them separately. And first, for the 
uses of concrete pitch, or slide, as an element of ex- 
pression. 

In the last chapter, it was stated that when we sing, 
the voice continues for some time on one note, and 
then passes, through a longer or shorter interval of 
discrete pitch, to another. There is, in learning to 
sing, no need of attending, at all, to concrete pitch, 
because no such movement of the voice is required to 
be used in it. But in speaking, as was shown in the 
examples given, this is not the case. 



CONCRETE PITCH. 33 

We may now go a little further than we went in the 
last chapter. Very careful observations, made by 
persons having what is called a very fine ear for music, 
have shown that the voice goes through some interval 
or other of concrete pitch, on every syllable which is 
uttered in speech. This may, perhaps, be thought 
strange at first by some, but it has been proved beyond 
a doubt, by those who have made experiments on the 
subject. 

Take a sentence, ' I am coming to see you to-day,' 
for example, and let the whole sentence, or any num- 
ber of the words in it, be first sung^ and then spoken, 
taking care not to drawl them at all in trying to speak 
them. It will be seen that there is a great difference, 
between the sound of any one of the syllables when 
spoken, and that of the same syllable when sung. 
This difference is produced by the use of concrete pitch. 

Now, let the same sentence be repeated, just as one 
naturally would in common conversation, but with a 
pause after the word c see,' as if the speaker was in- 
terrupted ; 'I am coming to see .' The word 

'see ' has, in such a case, a very peculiar intonation, one 
which no one can mistake. It makes any one who hears 
it, feel directly, that something more is to be said. The 
same intonation will be heard on any other of the 
words of the sentence, by making the sudden pause after 
it. c I — ,' < I am com — ,' c I am coming to — , &c.' 

This peculiar expression was found, by Dr. Rush, 
to depend on the use of concrete pitch. He dis- 
covered, by several experiments, that the voice rises, 
or slides upwards a certain small distance, (or 'in- 
terval,' as it is called,) in concrete pitch, between 



40 CONCRETE PITCH. 

the beginning and the end of the syllable. This small 
interval is the same with what we call, in music, c a 
tone.' The slide he therefore named, 'the upward 
slide of the tone.' 

The upward slide of the tone is used on all the 
unemphatic syllables in speaking, which have other 
syllables to come directly after them. It may be made 
apparent, by stopping suddenly, as if interrupted, after 
any one of them. When the syllables follow one 
another without interruption, we do not commonly 
notice it ; but, as will soon be seen, it is of great con- 
sequence to make it rightly, in all those cases in which 
it ought to be given. 

Let the same sentence be now repeated in the same 
manner, to the end. ' I am coming to see you to day.' 
The last syllable, ' day,' has an intonation quite different 
from that which we have just shown the other syllables 
to have. We feel, as soon as it is uttered, that there is 
no other word to come after it, and that the sense of 
the passage is complete. The same intonation may be 
given to any other one of the syllables, if we make it 
the end of the sentence. ' I am come.' c I am coming.' 
i I am coming to see you.' &c. Where, as in the 
former case, we stopped short, as if interrupted, the 
intonation at once led us to expect the continuation of 
the sentence ; but here, where the sentence is supposed 
to be ended, the intonation does not lead us to listen 
for any thing further. In this case, the slide made on 
the syllable, has been ascertained to be c the downward 
slide of the tone ;' or, in other words, the voice slides 
downward in concrete pitch, just as far as in the former 
case, it was found to slide upwards. 



CONCRETE PITCH. 41 

The downward slide of the tone, then, is used on all 
unemphatic syllables, which come at the end of a clause, 
and require any pause after them. It may always be 
easily distinguished from the corresponding upward 
slide, by its expression. 

Let us now take the simple question, i was it you? ' 
and repeat it without any more emphasis on the word 
c you,' than is required to make the sentence sound as 
a question. There is in this case, a peculiar intonation 
on the syllable c you, 5 giving it the natural expression 
of a question. This may be proved in a moment by 
repeating the word \ you ? ' alone. It is quite as easy 
to make the single word sound like a question, as it is 
to make the sentence a question. This expression 
of the simple question, is made by the use of an up- 
ward slide of the voice, through a distance or interval 
about twice as long as the one before explained. 
This slide is called, from the musical name of the in- 
terval through which it passes, c the upward slide of 
the third.' 

Repeat the answer to this question, c It was /; ' 
giving to the word ' I,' that moderate degree of empha- 
sis, which will mark it out as the answer to a question ; 
and it will be seen that its expression, even when it is 
repeated by itself, is different from that of any of the 
slides already mentioned. c J. 5 The slide which gives 
it this expression, is the downward slide, correspond- 
ing to the preceding upward one. It is called ' the 
downward slide of the third.' 

If, now, the question be repeated, with more of 
earnestness and surprise than before, ' was it you ? ' 
the slide upwards on the word ' you ' will be readily 



42 CONCRETE PITCH. 

perceived to be longer than before. It is, in fact, 
nearly twice as long. It is ascertained to pass through 
the interval, called in music, a fifth, and is therefore 
called ' the upward slide of the fifth.' 

Let the answer to this second question be now re- 
peated, of course with a greater degree of emphasis than 
before, c It was i. 5 We have now a downward slide 
on the word 'I,' equal in length to the upward slide 
made in the question. It is called the ' downward 
slide of the fifth.' 

Suppose, however, that the person who had twice 
repeated the question, were to repeat it yet a third 
time, as if he still doubted the truth of the answer ; 
'YOU?' The upward slide would, in this case, be 
much more piercing than before. It has been found to 
run up through what is called, in music, an octave. 
We call it, therefore, c the upward slide of the octave.' 

In the same manner, if we repeat the answer to this 
third question, 4 1,' we shall have a slide, beginning on 
a high note in the scale, and running down to a very 
low one. This slide is also found to pass through an 
octave, and is called c the downward slide of the octave.' 

These slides of the octave are hardly ever used, 
except in conversation, or in acting. They are too 
violent and passionate for common reading or speaking. 
Still, it is well to know them, and to acquire the power 
of sounding them correctly, whenever they may be 
required. 

There remains still one other interval of concrete 
pitch, through which the voice sometimes passes. It is 
only about half the length of the tone, and is called in 
music, the semitone. To explain it, let the sentence ' I 



CONCRETE PITCH. 43 

will be a good boy,' be repeated in the tone of a crying 
child, but without giving emphasis to any of the words 
in it. If, as in the first example given in this chapter, 
the sentence be interrupted before the end, ( c I will — ,' 
c I will be a — ,' 'I will be a good — ,') it will be 
observed that the last syllable titterred has a crying or 
plaintive expression, and also that it leaves us in 
expectation of something to follow it. This expression 
is produced by the voice sliding upwards, through this 
very short interval of a semitone. The slide is called, 
therefore, c the upward slide of the semitone.' If, on 
the other hand, the sentence be finished, ( c I will be a 
good boy,') there will still be the crying or plaintive 
expression, but the feeling that the sentence is unfinished 
is no longer produced. This expression is the result 
of c the downward slide of the semitone,' on the word 
< boy.' 

The musical names are given to all these ten simple 
slides, (as they are called,) merely to distinguish them 
from one another. It is not expected, that most pupils 
will be able to distinguish the semitone, tone, third, 
&c, as they are used in music* This is not at all 
necessary. All that need be done, is to show the, 
expression of each slide. It will be easy always to 
distinguish them by this. Their musical character is, 
for practical purposes, of no importance. 

These slides must all be practised on by the pupils, 
till they can be made with perfect ease, and with unvary- 
ing success. For this purpose, it may be well to use 
the following tables. The first contains the eight long 
tonic elements, on which all the slides may be made 
with ease. The second consists of the six short tonic 



44 CONCRETE PITCH. 

elements, to which, on account of the shortness of their 
sound, it is hard, if not impossible, to give the long 
slide of the octave. These should be first taken up. 
Let each scholar in the class, sound each of these ele- 
ments, as varied by the use of the ten slides, and the 
whole class repeat after him, the instructer taking care to 
note and correct all errors. This, after a little practice, 
will not be difficult. When all the slides can be well 
made on each of these elementary sounds, let the class 
proceed to a similar course of drilling on the third and 
fourth tables, which consist of words, selected to afford 
them practice on long and short syllables respectively. 
The class should not be considered competent to pass 
beyond this step, till they are able, anyone of them, to 
sound correctly, and without effort, any slide that may 
be called for, and on any one of the elements or 
syllables. 

Tables for practice on the simple Slides. 

I. ee, oo, a, a', a", o, ou, i. 

II. i', u, e, o', a ;// , e'. 

III. all, old, fair, heal, dare, save, hail, thrive, you, 
I, he, hound. 

IV. gone, will, sit, out, ice, ought, past, done, ask, 
bite. 



CONCRETE PITCH. 45 

CHAPTER V. 

CONCRETE PITC H — Continued. 

COMPOUND SLIDES, OR WAVES. 

The last chapter has given an account of the simple 
slides of the voice, as they are commonly used in 
speech. We have now to consider a second kind of 
slides, called the compound slides, or waves, The 
slides mentioned in the last chapter have all of them 
only one direction, that is, they run either upwards or 
downwards, through a certain interval. In the com- 
pound slides, or waves, on the other hand, the voice 
slides, first in one direction, and then back again in the 
other. 

Let the sentence, 6 Hail, holy light,' be repeated, 
giving to the word 'hail' the longest possible sound, 
unaccompanied with any thing like positive emphasis, 
and avoiding carefully all drawling on it, and it will be 
perceived, by a nice ear, that the voice first falls a little 
in concrete pitch, and then rises again through an equal 
interval. It is found to pass, in either direction, through 
a musical tone. The wave is called ' the indirect equal 
wave of the tone : ' indirect, because it terminates with 
a rising movement ; and equal, because the interval 
passed through in one direction, is the same with that 
traversed in the other. 

Repeat in the same way, c all hail,' still avoiding all 

positive emphasis on the word c hail,' but lengthening 

out its sound, without drawling, and the voice will pass 

through the same wave, but in the opposite direction. 

5 



46 CONCRETE PITCH. 

It will first rise, and then fall, a tone. This is what is 
called ' the direct equal wave of the tone.' There is 
the same difference of expression between the two 
waves of the tone, as there was between the two simple 
slides of the tone. The indirect wave answers to the 
upward slide, in not finishing the clause, but requiring 
other words to follow it. The direct wave answers 
to the downward slide, in always giving the other 
expression. 

Let the question be imagined to be put, ' you said 
Hail 6 ?* If this sentence be repeated as a simple in- 
inquiry, with the same long sound on c hail,' as before, 
the voice, instead of first rising a third, (as in the 
example given in the last chapter, where the word 
1 you ' was sounded in its common, or rather short, way,) 
will first fall a third, and then rise again to where it 
started. This is what we call ' the indirect equal wave 
of the third.' 

6 I said, Hail.' Let this last word now have the 
emphasis naturally given, in the answer to such a 
question as the preceding, together with the same slow, 
serious utterance as before, and the voice will be found 
first to rise, and then to fall a third. This is an 
example of c the direct equal wave of the third.' 

' You said Hail ? ' If the question be again repeated 
with more surprise and emphasis, but still with the 
same long sound, there will be on the word ' hail,' 'the 
indirect equal wave of the fifth.' 

c Yes, Hail.' In this answer, more positive than 
the former one, we shall hear c the direct equal wave 
of the fifth.' 

In the same way, by again repeating the question 



CONCRETE PITCH. 47 

and answer, with increased violence, we may make the 
' indirect,' and c direct equal waves of the octave ; ' but 
as, like the ^ides of the octave, these waves are scarcely 
ever used, except in conversation, they need hardly be 
practised on for speaking. 

The two equal waves of the semitone are easily ex- 
plained. They correspond in expression with the 
slides of the semitone ; that is, they are both plaintive 
in the expression, the indirect wave suspending the 
sense, and being used on words which are immediately 
followed by others, the direct wave closing it, and 
coming therefore at the end. They may be easily ex- 
hibited, by uniting the plaintive expression with slow 
utterance. For instance, 

6 Pity the sorrows of a poor old man. 5 

Here the indirect equal wave of the semitone will fall 
on the words, c poor ' and i old. 5 

* I will be a good boy.' 

Here the closing word, ' boy, 5 will exhibit the direct 
equal of the semitone. 

The ten preceding waves have all received the 
the name of equal waves, from their ascending and de- 
scending parts being equal. But this is not the case in 
regard to all the waves that can be made. Wherever 
the two parts of a compound slide are unequal, it is 
said to be ' an unequal wave.' These unequal waves 
are, of course, very numerous ; but as they have all 
of them very nearly the same expression, (that of con- 
tempt and ridicule,) it is not worth while to try to 
enumerate them. It is enough to state, that they 



48 



CONCRETE PITCH. 



become more strikingly emphatic, according as the 
intervals of concrete pitch passed through, in either 
direction, are made longer. 

The question ' your friend ? ', or the answer ' my 
friend,' may be made to exemplify this species of wave, 
the intervals of pitch employed in the waves being 
greater or less, according to the degree of scorn thrown 
into the utterance of the words 'your ' and c mine.' 

So, also, in the following example : — 

'Not think they'd shave?' quoth Hodge, with 
wond'ring eyes, 

And voice not much unlike an Indian yell, 
' What were they made for then, you dog ? ' he cries — 

' Made ? ' quoth the fellow, with a smile, ' to sell ! ' 

Here the words 'shave,' 'made,' and 'sell,' will 
exhibit the unequal wave. 

Where, as on the word ' your ' (in the first exam- 
ple,) or on the words ' shave ' and ' made ' (in the 
second,) the expression of interrogation is to be given, 
the slide ends with an upward movement, and is called 
c an inverted unequal wave ; ' whereas on the other 
two words, 'my' and 'self,' on which there is no 
interrogation, the slide ends by running downwards, 
and is called ' the direct unequal wave.' 

Of course, a wave cannot be made on any really short 
syllable, as the only way of making it, consists in 
lengthening the syllables on which it is to be exhibited. 

These waves must all be practised on the two follow- 
ing tables, in the same manner as was directed for the 
slides in the last chapter. 



DISCRETE PITCH. 49 



TABLES. 



I. ee, oo, a/a', a", o, ou, i. 

II. save, all, old, fair, praise, wo, move, arm, roll. 



CHAPTER VI. 

ON DISCRETE OR RADICAL PITCH. 

In explaining what was meant by pitch, as an element 
of expression, it was shown that there were two kinds 
of pitch used in speaking, the first being the change of 
pitch or slide made between the beginning and the end 
of each syllable, and the second being the pitch on 
which the beginning of the successive syllables is made. 
The first of these two kinds of pitch has been explained 
in the two preceding chapters. We have now to con- 
sider the second. 

If we say, as a pettish child would do, the words, 6 1 
WON'T,' we shall notice that the second word begins a 
good deal higher than the first. This distance or inter- 
val between the two is much greater in this case, than it 
was between any two of the syllables in the example 
given in the fourth chapter, ' I am coming to see you to- 
day.' We have then, in this chapter, to see what dif- 
ferent intervals of this kind may be made, and what are 
their uses. 

Let the sentence, i I am coming to see you to-day,' 

be repeated, taking great care not to make any word in 

5# 



50 DISCRETE PITCH. 

it emphatic. Two things may be observed in the way 
of uttering it. ] . As was shown in the last chapter 
but one, there will be no slides of more than a tone on 
any of the syllables in it. 2. Though the syllables do 
not all begin on the same note, yet no two of them have 
any great difference in radical pitch between them, such 
as was observed in the other example between the words 
1 I ' and ' won't. 5 The slight difference, which is made 
between some of them, has been found to be the same 
with what we have called a tone. The first rule then 
to be remembered in reference to Radical Pitch is, that 
an interval of a tone between two syllables gives no em- 
phasis to either of them. 

' You dare tell me so ? ' If this sentence be read as 
it would be commonly spoken, the word ' dare ' would 
be emphasized by having its radical pitch a third lower 
than that of the word before it. It would have also, as 
was explained in the last chapter, an upward slide of a 
third, in order to give it the intonation of a simple ques- 
tion. 

' I dare tell you so.' Here we should give an up- 
ward interval of a third in discrete pitch, between the 
words 'I' and c dare.' There should be also a dotvn- 
ward slide of the same length on the latter word, to give 
it a somewhat positive expression. 

Repeat the question with more earnestness. ' You 
dare ?' Here we shall have the downward interval of 
the fifth, with an upward slide of the same length. 

'I dare.' This repeated answer would exemplify 
the upward interval of the fifth with its downward slide. 

In the same way the corresponding octaves may be 
made, but, as was before observed, they are of little use, 
except for acting. 



DISCRETE PITCH. 51 

In all the above examples of emphatic discrete in- 
tervals, it will be seen that, by adding them to their cor- 
responding slides, a word is emphasized in a much more 
lively manner than it would have been by the slides 
alone. Let the sentence, ' Sir, I thank the government 
for this measure,' be read, first, in the solemn and dig- 
nified tone of a man quite confident of being in the 
right, and then in a more lively manner, and it will be 
seen, that the difference between the two readings will 
be, that in the former case we have a downward slide 
on the word ' thank ' without any upward discrete inter- 
val, while in the latter we use both together. In the 
same way, taking any of the examples which have been 
given in the fourth chapter for the slides, their empha- 
sis may be made more or less lively, simply by adding 
or not adding a discrete interval in the opposite 
direction. 

The emphasis, then, which is given by the use of dis- 
crete pitch, is always lively. In all the examples which 
have yet been given, the emphatic discrete interval has 
been accompanied by an equally long slide running the 
other way ; but this, it should be understood, is not 
always the case. The rule for the employment of dis- 
crete pitch is, to make the interval wider, according as 
we would have the emphasis more lively : the slides and 
waves must then be added according to their own rules. 
An example will be sufficient to explain this. 

c A pretty fellow you are, to be sure.' This sentence 
is one which requires no emphatic slides. There is no 
interrogation to require an upward slide, and nothing 
positive, to need a downward one. If therefore we wish 
to read it as an angry taunt, we must give to it the lively 



52 DISCRETE PITCH. 

emphasis of the wide discrete intervals combined with 
the unemphatic slide of the tone. Between the syllable 
8 pret- ' therefore, and the one before it, there will be 
an upward interval of a fifth or a third, according as the 
taunt is made more or less severe. A downward inter- 
val of corresponding length will then be made between 
'ty' and 'fel-.' The voice may perhaps rise a second 
time in radical pitch, on 'you.' 

We have stated it as a general rule, that this kind of 
emphasis may be used, at any time when we want to 
give a lively expression. There are some particular 
cases in which it is almost necessary to use it. These 
may be best shown by examples. 

6 Had I been his slave, he could not have used me 
worse.' We have here between the words 'his' and 
' slave,' an upward discrete interval of a third or fifth, 
according to the degree of violence with which we sup- 
pose the sentence to be spoken. There is, in addition 
to this, a downward slide of the same length on the lat- 
ter word. On the second emphatic word, c worse,' we 
shall probably give only the downward slide, without any 
upward interval. On both words we require a lively 
emphasis. Why then do we not give the upward interval 
on the second, as well as on the first ? The reason is 
this. The first clause is conditional : 'If I had been 
&c.:'the second is not. We give to the emphatic 
words in the conditional clause the upward interval, in 
order to keep the sense suspended, and to make the 
hearer constantly expect a second clause. When we 
come to the second clause, we commonly cease to use it, 
that we may mark out clearly the transition. This will 
be found to be a rule of almost universal application. 



DISCRETE PITCH. 53 

It may be remarked that in this mode of applying 
the upward intervals, it is by no means necessary to 
have a corresponding downward slide joined with them, 
though this is certainly the most common usage. The 
sentence l If he did hate me, what then ? ' will perhaps 
explain this. Let it be read with such eagerness and 
haste as to give an upward fifth between ' he ' and ' did : ' 
the downward slide on the word i did ' would hardly 
ever be made more than a third in length. 

6 He thought so, and therefore he said it.' In this 
example there is an antithesis between the two words 
' thought 'and 'said.' In order to give the right ex- 
pression to the sentence, it will be found necessary to 
give the wide radical interval on the one, and not on the 
other. Both of them will receive an emphatic down- 
ward slide. The most natural way of reading the 
sentence will be, to put an upward discrete third or fifth 
on the word \ thought, ' and not on ' said.' 

One more case may as well be mentioned. When 
we are asking questions with a great deal of anger, or 
surprise, we very commonly give to the emphatic sylla- 
bles long upward slides, and then run along the other 
syllables which come between them, on the high pitch 
where the slide left off. This may be seen in the ques- 
tion ' All of them drowned ?' 



54 DISCRETE PITCH. 

CHAPTER VII. 

DISCRETE OR RADICAL PITCH— Continued. 

In the preceding three chapters we have considered 
many of the uses both of Concrete and Discrete Pitch. 
Enough has been said of the modes of employing 
them for every purpose of emphasizing words. A little 
more may perhaps be said with advantage on the mode 
of employing them, especially the latter, on the unem- 
phatic syllables in discourse. 

In reference to the pitch of unemphatic syllables, 
two things which have been already noticed, must be 
very carefully borne in mind. 1. They must all have 
the slide of the tone upwards, if we wish to connect 
them closely with succeeding words, and downwards, 
if we wish to separate them. 2. No two of them 
must ever have between them an interval of discrete 
pitch, wider than a tone.* 

The great thing to be avoided in reading a number 
of unemphatic words, is monotony. There are two 

*The Grammar of Elocution contains a pretty complete account 
of all the combinations of discrete pitch and slide, which may be 
allowed to enter into unemphatic speech. It has been found, on 
trial, almost impossible to invent a series of examples which 
should present a full view of them, without the introduction of 
diagrams ; a step which, on many accounts, it was felt desirable 
to avoid. If any teacher should think, that the information ren- 
dered on this subject in the text, is nut sufficiently minute, we 
would refer him to the chapter on ' Simple Melody of Speech,' as 
it stands in that work. The examples may be orally explained to 
the class, and the diagrams copied out on the black board. Few 
classes of children, however, we apprehend, would be much bene- 
fited by the explanation. 



DISCRETE PITCH. 55 

kinds of monotony, one of which is almost as disagree- 
able as the other. The first is that of sounding too 
many syllables together, on the same note of radical 
pitch. You may have an example of it, in the way 
in which a child who could just spell out his words, 
would read the sentence 1 1 — will — be — a — good — boy.' 
The only way to avoid this kind of monotony is to 
recollect, that we must never give the same radical 
pitch to more than three or four syllables successively. 
The voice must be continually rising and falling through 
the tone. Unless indeed the subject be a somewhat 
solemn one, we must not let even three or four syllables 
run along on the same note. 

The second kind of monotony is that which we almost 
always hear, when people try to read poetry. It con- 
sists in running over and over again through the same, 
or nearly the same, succession of notes, in the different 
clauses of a sentence. There are not many persons 
who will not fall into it, in reading such a verse as this 
of Addison's, 

1 When all thy mercies, O my God, 

My rising- soul surveys, 
Transported with the view, I'm lost 

In wonder, love, and praise.' 

It will require very great attention to get rid of this 
monotony, even in reading prose. 

It should be remembered, that we always take most 
notice of the way in which the voice is managed, at the 
pauses which take place in a sentence. If they are all 
made with the same rise or fall of the voice, the mo- 
notony which they will cause, will be very apparent, as 
well as unpleasant to every one. The greatest pains 



56 DISCRETE PITCH. 

should be taken to make the intonation at the pauses as 
diversified as possible, always recollecting, however, 
that, unless the words happen to be emphatic, we can- 
not employ any intervals of pitch wider than the tone. 

There is a particular intonation required before the 
long pause, which occurs between important sentences 
or paragraphs. It is called the Cadence. It has sev- 
eral forms, * which are to be used according to the 
nature of the closing syllables of the sentence. 

1. The first, or perfect form of the cadence is em- 
ployed, when the last two syllables are neither of them 
emphatic. Each of these syllables is made to fall a 
tone in radical pitch below the one before it, the last 
syllable having, of course, the downward slide of the 
tone. 

' I could not have slept this night in my bed, nor 
even reposed my head upon my pillow, without giving 
vent to my steadfast abhorrence of such enormous and 

preposterous prin- . 

" pies.' 

' Nothing came amiss 

him.' 

£ None but a fool would measure his satisfaction by 
what the world thinks r 

of it.' 

* In the Grammar of Elocution two forms of the cadence are 
given, which are here omitted. It was thought difficult to explain 
them by merely written examples to children. The teacher will 
be able to satisfy himself with regard to them, by a reference to 
the Grammar. If he thinks it worth while, he may easily display 
them orally to his class. 



DISCRETE PITCH. 57 

2. In the second form of the cadence, the voice 
passes through a downward slide of a third on the last 
syllable but one. The last syllable then has its radical 
pitch, on the same note on which the previous slide had 
ended, and falls in its concrete pitch through the interval 
of a tone. - 



see- . 
ing 



' He went his way therefore, and washed, and came 

E- • , 

ing.' . 

c He said, He is a pro- , A , 
' phet. 

' One dead, uniform silence reigned over the whole 

RE- • , 

gion.' 

3. The third form of the cadence is made, by letting 
the last syllable fall a tone in its radical pitch below the 
one before it, and then giving it the downward slide 
of the third. 

' They answered and said unto him, Thou wast alto- 
gether born in sins, and dost thou teach us ? And they 
cast him ^ m , 

OUT. 

c Andrew, in a sorrowful tone, (as is usual on those 
occasions,) prayed heaven to prolong his life, and health 
to enjoy it him- , 

J J SELF. 

6 He then embraced his friends, stripped himself of 
part of his apparel, and laid his head upon the , 

C And the waters prevailed upon the earth an hundred 
and fifty , 

J DAYS. 

6 



58 FORCE. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

ON FORCE. 

The second of the elements of expression has been 
stated to be the force, or degree of loudness, with 
which we speak. Every body knows that we speak 
much louder at some times than at others. Every 
body knows too, that loud speaking gives a very dif- 
ferent meaning to a sentence, from what softer and less 
forcible speaking does. For example, the sentence 
' Take care, Sir,' if uttered with great force and loud- 
ness, would seem like an angry threat, but, if uttered 
in a milder tone, it would appear a very friendly warn- 
ing. Such feelings as anger, joy, pain, terror, or con- 
fidence, are generally expressed by the use of consid- 
erable force. Secresy, sorrow, doubt, or shame, will 
require much less. 

This general rule must suffice to direct the pupil for 
what purposes he is to employ this element throughout 
a speech or sentence. If the sentiment contained be 
of the first class, he must use a good deal of force 
throughout. His own judgment must tell him how 
much is required. 

It is not, however, only to the general loudness of 
voice with which whole sentences are to be spoken, 
that we have to attend. We must see on what words 
in a sentence it is to be most used, and also in 
what manner it may in each case be best used, so as to 
convey the exact meaning we wish to give. 

In every sentence, some syllables must have greater 
force than others. * It is false, Sir, utterly false.' 



FORCE. 59 

Now, whether this sentence be read in a loud angry- 
tone, or in a milder and more sorrowful one, the em- 
phatic syllables ' false,' ' at-' and ' false/ will be given 
with more force than the others. In this case, we see 
that the element of force is used to give emphasis. 

But now let us take another sentence : ' And Nathan 
said unto David.' Read this sentence without giving 
emphasis to any of the words in it. The syllables 
' Na-' ' said ' and ' Da-' will still be louder than the 
others. Here, then, we have the elements of force used 
more on one syllable than on another, without making 
it emphatic. 

When the element of force is used to make a word 
emphatic, we commonly call it stress. What is the 
difference between stress, and that kind of force which 
was given to the unemphatic words in the last example ? 
In order to explain this, we must describe more mi- 
nutely the nature of the slide, which has been shown to 
be made on every syllable in speaking. 

It has been shown already, (Chap, iv.) that when- 
ever we speak, there is a greater or less change of pitch 
between the beginning and the end of the sound we 
make. This change, we may now say, is a gradual 
one, that is, the voice passes quickly through all the 
sounds that can be made between the pitch where we 
begin, and that on which w r e end. There is another 
thing, too, to be noticed. In common speaking, it will be 
found that the voice begins more or less loud and full, 
and gradually dies away, becoming weaker and weaker 
as it rises or falls in its slide. This dying away of the 
sound at the end of the syllable, led Dr. Rush, who first 
noticed it, to give the name of the c vanishing movement,' 



60 



FORCE. 



or 'vanish' to the latter portion of the slide. To the 
beginning, he gave the name of the 'radical movement' 
or i radical.' 

This gradual dying away of the sound takes place, 
we have said, in ordinary speaking. All unemphatic 
words have it, whether they are sounded loud or not. 
This may be seen by a reference to the example already 
given. i And Nathan said unto David.' Let the whole 
be read without emphasis, just as one would say the 
words in the middle of a story. The syllables ' Na-' 
6 said ' and ' Da-' will be louder than the rest, as has 
been already shown. Now let each syllable be repeated 
separately, exactly as it was given in reading the whole 
sentence, and it will be found that on every one there 
will be made a gradual and even lessening of sound 
from the beginning to the end. This, as we shall see, 
is the reason why the louder syllables in the sentence 
do not strike us as emphatic. Why some syllables 
should receive this unemphatic force will be explained 
in the chapter on Accent. It will be enough here to 
state that, whatever may be the force of voice with 
which we may be speaking, if this fall opening and reg- 
ular vanish is given, it will not be emphatic, i. e. it 
will not be what we have called stress. 

It is only where this proportion between the radical 
and vanish is not preserved, that we have stress or em- 
phatic force. Now this may happen in several ways. 

1. The radical may be sounded fully, and the vanish 
be given very faintly, and of course very short. This 
is what we call radical stress. 

2. The radical may be sounded faintly, and the 



RADICAL STRESS. 61 

force may be given on the vanish. This has been 
termed vanishing stress. 

3. Force may be given at both ends, i. e. first on 
the radical, and then at the end of the vanish. This 
we call compound stress. 

4. Force may be given in the middle of the sound. 
This is called median stress. 

Each of these four kinds of stress will require some 
explanation. 



CHAPTER IX. 

FORCE- Continued. 
S T R E S S R ADICAL STRESS. 

By radical stress, then, we mean the giving a full sound 
to the radical, and a much feebler and shorter sound to 
the vanish of the syllable. It is, in fact, giving it what 
we may call an abrupt or sudden sound. It may be 
named either radical stress, or abruptness. 

An example of this kind of stress may be had in the 
words ' out with you.' Let this sentence be uttered in 
a very hasty and passionate manner, and after it, in a 
natural manner, such a sentence as ' he went out. 5 In 
the first case, the word c out ' will have radical stress 
given to it, in the second it will not. The difference 
maybe very easily perceived, and when once perceived 
will not be very easily forgotten. 

We shall notice, if we attend to the above example, 
a very important fact in regard to this kind of stress. 
6* 



62 RADICAL STRESS. 

The tonic element ou in the word ' out,' is one of the 
eight long tonics, and is therefore capable of having a 
somewhat long sound given to it. In the second sen- 
tence, i he went out,' where radical stress is not given 
to the word, we shall find that we may make it as 
long a syllable as custom will permit us; but in the 
first, where radical stress is to be given, we must make 
it as short as possible. 

Radical stress, then, or abruptness, gives us a means 
of emphasizing a class of words, which we very often can- 
not emphasize in any other way. We cannot make a 
naturally short syllable emphatic, by giving it a longer 
sound than others. It is also very difficult to make the 
long slides with perfect distinctness on such a syllable. 
Wide intervals of radical pitch, together with the em- 
ployment of radical stress, are the only means we can 
make use of to distinguish it. 

It is then of great importance, that every pupil should 
acquire a perfect command over this mode of employ- 
ing the element of force. For this purpose let him prac- 
tise diligently on the following tables, until he is able, 
without apparent effort, to give to every one of the 
sounds which they contain, the abrupt expression heard 
on the word ' out ' in the preceding example. This 
sudden, coughing effort of the voice will be the radical 
stress which he has to learn. 

It may be observed, that, as radical stress means noth- 
ing more than the giving to the radical a considerably 
greater degree of force as compared with the vanish, 
than it would have had in ordinary speaking, it by no 
means follows, that it must always have a great degree 
of general force or loudness of voice, combined with it. 



RADICAL STRESS. 63 

Radical stress may be given to a syllable just as com- 
pletely when we are speaking in a low voice, as when 
we are declaiming in a very loud one. It is true, indeed, 
that the addition of general force to radical stress gives 
it. much greater intensity and energy, but still it must 
never be forgotten, that it is not necessary to its exist- 
ence. 

The tables must be practised on, in the order in which 
they are here arranged ; first, the short tonic elements, 
as it will be found to be most easy to a beginner to give 
to them this kind of sound ; next, the eight long tonics 
to be sounded as short as possible; and last, the list of 
words subjoined. It may be well also, in order to become 
entirely master of radical stress in all its varieties, to prac- 
tise on these tables, first with a moderate degree of loud- 
ness or force of voice, then with its utmost power, and 
afterwards with as little force as possible. Care must 
be taken, however, that the sudden short explosive sound 
be always given, whatever be the degree of force which 
we employ. This exercise will be found to be of very 
great utility, and must therefore be persevered in, till 
the pupils have acquired a very perfect command over 
the use of radical stress. A public speaker who cannot 
use this element well, will never make himself heard 
in a place of any size. 

TABLES. 

I. i' 5 u, e, o', a /7/ , e ; . 

II. ee, oo, a, a', a", o, ou, i. 

III. it, end, edge, odd, at, up, eat, ask, art, all, 
ought, oaf, old, out, ice, ev-er, of-fer, act-ive, un-der, 
oth-er,art-M, ov-er, oust-ed, ic-y. 



64 VANISHING STRESS. 

Vanishing St?-ess. 

The second modification of stress has been stated to 
be, the giving to the vanish a greater degree of force 
than to the radical. It is in fact just the reverse of the 
natural, or unemphatic pronunciation of the syllable. 
In common speaking, we begin loud and end faintly ; 
in this element, we begin more faintly, and end loud. 

Vanishing stress may be most commonly heard in 
the speech of the lower orders among the Irish. ' And 
sure your honor will be knowing it.' It is heard also 
in the sound which we make in sobbing. 

It ought only to be used at the end of the emphatic 
slides of the voice. When it is added to the slide of 
the tone, it gives nothing more than the jerk we so 
often hear on the unemphatic words in Irish pronun- 
ciation. When properly combined with an emphatic 
slide, it gives a more hasty and earnest expression than 
the radical stress. In this way it is very frequently 
used by young children, ' I ivont, I tell you.' 

Tn order to give vanishing stress to a syllable, it is 
also necessary that it be one which is capable of re- 
ceiving a pretty long sound. It need not indeed be 
a very long one, but it must not, like those syllables 
to which we give radical stress, be very short. 

Two tables are subjoined for practice on this ele- 
ment. The first contains the eight long tonics; the 
second, a few words on which vanishing stress may be 
easily exhibited. Each of the emphatic slides and 
waves may as well be given in their turn, in combina- 
tion with it. Great care has to be taken, however, that 
the whole of the stress be thrown on to the end of the 



COMPOUND STRESS. 65 

slide or wave, and none of it to the beginning. If the 
sound be forcible at the opening, as well as at the 
close of the syllable, it will produce compound and 
not vanishing stress. 

It may be observed here, that any degree of general 
loudness may be made to accompany the use of van- 
ishing stress. This is indeed the case with all the four 
kinds of stress. They should therefore all of them be 
practised not only in a loud and energetic tone, but 
also in a more moderate, and even in a low and muffled 
voice. 

TABLES FOR PRACTICE. 

I. ee, oo, a, a ; , a 7/ , o, ou, i. 

II. he, you, may, dare, past, will, bound, bite ? 
gone, done, shall. 

Compound Stress, 

It will not be necessary to enter very minutely into 
the examination of this form of stress. It has all the 
earnestness of the vanishing stress, combined with 
much more gravity and dignity. It consists in giving 
comparative force to both ends of the syllable, leaving 
the faint sound of the voice only on the middle. It 
may be given on the word i all ' in the following ex- 
ample. 

c The boat upset, and they were all lost. 5 

* ALL lost ? ' 

Compound stress maybe practised with advantage 
on the last two tables. 



66 MEDIAN STRESS. 

Median Stress. 

This last species of stress differs considerably from 
any of those which have been already described. In 
exhibiting it, the voice opens at the beginning of the 
syllable with moderate force — it then gradually in- 
creases or swells till the middle, after which it dies 
away again to the end. Of course, all this can be done 
only on syllables which are of very considerable length, 
such as all, hail, wo. It should be heard in the sen- 
tence, ' Wo unto thee, Chorazin, wo unto thee, Beth- 
saida.' Its expression is always that of great solemnity. 

Median stress can be given much more perfectly on 
the equal waves of the voice, than on the simple slides. 
The reason of this is, that the speaking voice, when it is 
made to dwell long on one syllable, naturally assumes 
the form of an equal wave, and median stress can be 
only given on very long syllables. In using the sub- 
joined tables, therefore, each example should be sounded 
successively, with median stress on one or more of the 
equal waves, direct or indirect. 

It will require great practice to obtain a full com- 
mand over this element, and great care after it has 
become familiar to us, to use it judiciously in speaking. 

TABLES FOR PRACTICE. 

I. ee, oo, a, a', a", o, ou, i. 

II. aid, save, all, heal, old, fair, praise, wo, move, 
know, arm, hail, bear, roll, lord, thine, Zone-ly, roy-al, 
glo-vy, AoZ-y, un-known, con-ceal. 



QUANTITY. 67 

CHAPTER X. 

ON QUANTITY. 

The third of the elements of expression is quantity, 
or the length of time taken up in pronouncing a syllable. 
The great rule which must be always borne in mind in 
using this element, is this. On solemn subjects we 
speak slowly, on more lively ones we commonly speak 
quickly. Read the w 7 ords, ' Our Father, who art in 
heaven,' with a rapid utterance, or ' a pretty felldw 
you are ! ' with a slow one, and the inconsistency will 
be at once apparent to every one. 

This would perhaps seem to be almost enough to 
say on this subject, and it would be so in reality, if 
every body could only give long or short quantity, 
without losing the proper sound of the syllables on 
which he would show it. We find that most people, 
when they try to speak rapidly, clip their words so as 
to make them hardly intelligible to persons near them, 
and quite inaudible to any one who may be a little way 
off. So, too, when they try to speak slowly, we are 
almost sure to find, in their delivery, either what we call 
singing, or else drawling. It is therefore necessary, in 
a book on Elocution, to show how, by practice, all 
these common faults may be got rid of. 

The common fault, then, into which people fall in 
giving short quantity, is that of not pronouncing their 
w r ords correctly. To avoid this, it will be necessary for 
the pupil to practise diligently on all the vocal elements, 
as they have been explained in the first chapter, till he 
can sound them all with perfect ease and accuracy. 



68 QUANTITY. 

He must then combine them together in difficult words, 
such as those contained in the tables, (see page 29) till 
he feels confident, that he is able to sound them or any 
others easily, without altering in the least their proper 
pronunciation. He should then begin to sound them 
one after another, as quickly as he can, still taking care 
that no sound whatever, which should be heard in 
them, be suffered to escape him. A great part of this 
practice has been already directed to secure a distinct 
articulation. It must now be repeated, as far as may be 
necessary to insure the power of articulating, not only 
well, but also quickly. 

In giving long quantity, again, we have said most 
persons either sing or drawl. How are these faults to 
be avoided? To answer this question, it will be only 
necessary to repeat a part of what has been already 
said on the subjects of pitch and force. 

First, then, the voice in speaking, ought never to 
rest for a single instant on the same pitch. In every 
syllable after it has once begun, it must be all the 
while either rising or falling. If we neglect this rule, 
we shall make a sound like that which is heard in sing- 
ing. Every one, who, in trying to read slowly, sings his 
long syllables, will be found to make this mistake. He 
will have run along a part at least of the sound on the 
same pitch, instead of making it rise or fall throughout. 
To get rid of this fault, therefore, we must persevere 
in practising the different slides and waves, till it be- 
comes unnatural to us, even when making them as long 
in their sound as possible, not to sound them correctly. 

The second fault is drawling. This must be cor- 
rected by the proper use of the element of force. 



QUANTITY. 69 

There have been explained five different ways in which 
force may be applied to a syllable ; the first being the 
natural radical and vanish, which adds no emphasis to 
it, and the other four being the different modifications 
of emphatic force, or stress. It has been also shown, 
that of these four kinds of stress, the first, which has 
been called radical stress, can never be applied to a 
syllable without making us sound it short : the other 
three require the syllable to be naturally long. 

Now, in each of these five ways of applying force, 
the loudness of the voice is continually changing, 
throughout the word. Whenever we suffer it to 
remain through any considerable part of the sound, for 
two or three words together, we shall find that we have 
got into a drawl. If any one will listen to the way in 
which a young child reads his alphabet, or spells short 
words, they will find, in the sounds he makes, a good 
example of both these faults which we have been 
explaining. c a — b — c. ? — A long sound is given to the 
name of each letter : but the voice runs along through 
each on a level pitch, and with very nearly the same 
degree of force. 

In order, then, to correct this second fault, it will be 
only necessary to practise sounding syllables with long 
quantity, taking care to give them always either 
the natural radical and vanish, or else either vanishing, 
compound, or median stress. 

It should be stated, however, that in almost every 
case where very long quantity is required, it will be 
best given by the combination of the equal waves with 
median stress. This therefore should be first practised. 
After we have mastered this point, it may be well to 
7 



70 . QUANTITY, 

proceed to practise quantity on the simple slides, with 
the natural radical and vanish of the voice. If the 
pupil have followed the directions given for practice on 
vanishing and compound stress, it will be hardly requi- 
site for him to repeat that exercise. For the two 
exercises we have here prescribed, the tables giver 
under the head of median stress will be found sufficient. 
On them, however, he must practise till he can per- 
form the exercise well. 

One point alone remains now to be noticed on this 
subject. In reading a sentence slowly, it will never do 
to give the same long quantity to every syllable in it. 
There are a great many syllables on which we cannot 
possibly increase the length at all. Such words as bit, 
tap, hate, fop, pettish, can only be made long by 
altering their sound entirely. We call such syllables 
immutable. 

There is a second class, again, which we can lengthen 
a little, but not much. These we call mutable. Can, 
mad, ban, in, are examples. 

The third classs only are capable of receiving very- 
long quantity. Hail, wo, throne, high, power, are of 
this character. They are called indefinite. 

In reading solemn passages, then, we must recollect 
that we are never to attempt to lengthen an immutable 
syllable at all, nor a merely mutable one much. The 
use of the waves, and of median or compound stress, is 
confined to indefinite syllables ; radical stress requires 
us to sound a syllable, to whatever class it may belong, 
as if it were immutable; vanishing stress may be given 
to either mutable or indefinite syllables. The natural 
radical and vanish, and the simple slides, may be given 
to all. 



QUANTITY. 71 

A remark or two should be made on the way in 
which we are to lengthen mutable syllables- Most of 
them have their tonic element naturally short. C-a^-n, 
i 7 n, b-a /;/ -n, e-nd. In such words no attempt must be 
made to lengthen out the tonic sound. All the quantity 
which may be given to the syllable must be given on 
the subtonic elements. C-a^-N, i'-N, e-ND. 

In the same way, in lengthening indefinite syllables, 
much of the quantity must be given to the subtonic 
elements in them. Th-r-o-N, (throne), s-ou-n-d, 
r-o-L (roll), m-A-D, (made). It will not do, however, 
in either case, to lengthen a subtonic element at all, if 
if it comes before the tonic element in the syllable. 
This would sound very affectedly ; indeed it w r ould 
almost make two syllables of it. P-L-e'-N-D-e'-R (plun- 
der), M-a"--D (mad), k-L-A-M (claim), n-o-n (known). 

It will probably be difficult, at first, for the pupil to 
lengthen his subtonic elements, even where they ought 
to be lengthened. This difficulty must be removed by 
practising on the following tables. The first contains a 
list of the subtonics, which admit of being lengthened. 
On each of these let the pupils practise, first the 
slides, and then the equal waves of the tone, third 
and fifth, endeavoring throughout to make the sound 
as long as they can. The second table contains 
some mutable syllables, which will require quantity 
on the closing subtonic elements. The third consists 
of a few indefinite syllables, whose quantity is to be 
shared between the tonics and the subtonics which 
follow it. 



72 QUALITY. 

TABLES. 

I. b, d, g, 1, m, n, ng, r, v, z, th. 

II. sob, sad, dog, tell, him, son, song, her, or, 

live, his. 

III. old, aid, all, heal, bound, end, known, aim, 
fair, our, save, raise, soothe, hol-y. 

The bad effect of trying to lengthen any of the sub- 
tonic or atonic elements, at the beginning of a word, 
may be shown on any of the words in these tables 
which have consonants before the tonic element. 

An atonic element must never be lengthened at all, 
either at the beginning or end of a syllable. F-i'-t (fit), 
s-a-v. (save), sH-a-p (shape), TH-i-ng-k (think), a ; -F 
(off), h-i'-s (hiss), p-u-sH (push). 



CHAPTER XI. 

ON QUALITY. 

We have now arrived at the consideration of the last 
of the elements of expression, viz. quality, or the kind 
of voice we are to use for different purposes. As 
might be supposed, the human voice is capable of a 
great many varieties of quality. The words, harsh, 
smooth, hoarse, full, musical, aspirated, whispering, and 
many others, are employed to denote them. 



QUALITY. 73 

When we are speaking on subjects of- no great 
interest, we use that kind of voice which is most easy 
and natural to us. This is nearly, though not quite the 
same, in almost every one. We can always recognise 
it when we hear it, as the natural tone of common 
conversation. 

There are some persons whose ordinary quality of 
voice is bad ; but it ought to be remembered^ in speak- 
ing on this subject, that we do not mean by this 
expression what is commonly meant by it. If a person 
pronounces indistinctly, or talks monotonously, whines, 
drawls, or talks either too fast or too slow, it is common 
to say that he has a bad kind of voice. None of these 
faults are, however, really faults of quality. Bad pro- 
nunciation must be amended by practising on the vocal 
elements, monotony by attending to the proper modes 
of using pitch and accent, whining by avoiding the use 
of the semitone slides and waves, drawling by the 
proper use of stress, quick and slow utterance by the 
study of quantity. So, also, if the voice be too full or 
too loud, the fault is rather in the misemployment of the 
element of force. None of these belong really to the 
head of quality. 

Real faults of quality are those only which cannot be 
brought under any of the other elements of expression. 
Like all other faults, they are to be amended only by 
careful practice. In almost every case they may be 
removed by this means. As soon as the nature of the 
fault, whatever it may be, has been ascertained, let the 
pupil direct his attention to it for a few weeks in all his 
reading, and even, if he can, whenever he is talking, 
and he will soon find that he is overcoming it. For 
7* 



74 QUALITY. 

example, if his speaking voice be too harsh, let him be 
continually aiming to make it sound less harshly when 
he reads ; if it be too husky, let him try to make it 
clear and distinct ; if he have fallen into a habit of 
speaking too much through the nose, or through the 
teeth, let it be his endeavor to avoid the peculiar effect 
of this way of talking, by trying to speak as other 
people do, through the throat. It will be the office of 
the instructer to point out such defects, whenever he 
finds them to exist. They are not of very common 
occurrence, and do not therefore require any very 
detailed explanation. 

We are not, however, to be always using this natural 
quality of voice of which we have been speaking. 
Almost every emotion of the mind has its peculiar 
quality of voice, which is employed to express it, and no 
other. It will not, however, be necessary to describe 
them all, as it is not very often that we find them used 
improperly. A few may be noticed with advantage, as 
they will serve to explain more thoroughly what we 
mean by quality of voice. 

When a person speaks with great authority, or in a 
very angry manner, his voice is commonly harsher than 
usual. The ' come here, sir,' which we should address 
to a dog who did not mind the whistle, may serve as an 
example. 

Grief or pity, on the other hand, require a milder 
quality of voice. ' Poor fellow,' even to a dog, would 
never be spoken harshly. 

Secrecy will employ a whisper ! This needs no 
example. 

Fear is expressed by a quality of voice, a good deal 



ACCENT. 75 

like the whisper. We call it aspiration. ' What's the 
matter ? ' ' Didn't you see it ? ' 

The same quality of voice in combination with 
great force is used to express extreme violence, and 
sometimes contempt. c Coward ! ' 

There is a quality of voice much used in acting, and 
indeed of very great importance in good public speak- 
ing. Dr. Rush has given it the name of the ' orotund.' 
Its uses, and the modes of obtaining a command over it, 
are explained in the Grammar. As it is not easy of 
acquisition, it has been thought best not to attempt to 
give directions for its employment in this book. It will 
be found of great importance to the more advanced 
student of Elocution. In an introductory course of 
instruction, the teacher would hardly ever require to do 
more, than to correct the faults which may be found in 
the natural quality of the voice. 



CHAPTER XII. 

ON ACCENT. 

In the eighth chapter (p. 58) an example was given 
of a sentence in which some of the syllables, though 
unemphatic, were to be read with a somewhat greater 
degree of force or loudness than the others. 'And 
Nathan sa'id unto Da'vid.' It was also shown in what 
respect the unemphatic increase of force on these sylla- 
bles differs from the emphatic use of that element which 
we have called stress, and of which a number of 



76 



ACCENT. 



examples have been given. We have now, under the 
head of accent, to explain the purposes which it is 
employed to serve in speech. 

The human voice and ear are so formed by nature, 
as always to require a variety in the force of the suc- 
cessive syllables in a sentence. Take any sentence 
whatever, and whether there be emphatic words in it 
or not, this will be seen to be the case. 

4 Then 7 they went out 7 of the ci 7 ty, and came' unto 
him.' 

' And when 7 he had said 7 this', he fell' asleep 1 .' 

6 A War has need 7 of a good' mem'ory.' 

In the above examples those syllables which require 
the heavy sound, and which are called accented sylla- 
bles, are all marked thus ( 7 ). The other syllables, 
which are comparatively slurred over, are said to be 
unaccented. It should be particularly remembered 
that a monosyllable may receive accent, just as well as 
any one of the syllables in a long word. 

' He 7 had a fe 7 ver when 7 he was in Spain 7 .' 

In grammars and spelling books the accent is only 
marked in words of two or more syllables : c Fever,' 
< Almight 7 y,' ' Ir 7 ritable.' 

A glance at the five examples already given will 
suffice to demonstrate an important point in reference 
to accent. No syllable can have emphasis of any kind 
given it, without becoming accented. Let the pupil 
try to repeat either of the two last examples, giving to 



ACCENT. 77 

the accented syllables in any of the emphatic words, 
the low sound of unaccented syllables, and he will 
directly find that the words are made unemphatic. It 
has been already more than once observed that ac- 
cented syllables are not all emphatic. The two 
examples first given do not require any emphasis. 
They must, however, receive accent. 

It remains only to inquire how the accented and un- 
accented syllables are to follow one another in speech. 
Two very simple rules will explain the whole system. 

I. An unaccented syllable may follow an accented 
one, without any pause or break between them ; an 
accented one cannot. Let the word ' therefore ' be 
taken as an example. The first syllable in it is always 
accented, the second, never. In repeating the word, 
we see that the unaccented syllable can be uttered, 
easily, without any pause between it and the accented 
one before it. But now, repeat the first syllable 
twice, c there' — there 7 ,' taking care to make it ac- 
cented both times. There will be a very perceptible 
break between them, a break long enough for us to have 
got in, if we had tried, an unaccented syllable, in the 
time it took up. We might say, ' there 7 and there 7 ,' in 
as little time as we can c there 7 — there 7 .' So much for 
the first rule. 

II. The second principle is, that two, or even more, 
unaccented syllables may follow one another without 
requiring any pause between them. 'Therefore there 
went 7 .' ' Therefore there went out 7 .' c HiVtory of the 
king 7 .' The above examples show us two, three, and 



78 ACCENT. 

even four unaccented syllables in this close union. 
More than four, we shall find too many. We shall be 
obliged to pause between them, in order to take breath. 
In each of these examples we find that the accented 
syllable, and the unaccented sound or sounds which 
follow it, are uttered by one effort of the voice. As 
soon as we come to another accented syllable, we 
must make another effort. ' Therefore there went 7 
out 7 — .' We give the name of a measure to the syl- 
lables which are thus sounded by one impulse. In 
order to make out the measures for reading, we 
divide them from each other by bars, (thus, | | ) 

' | Therefore there | went 7 to him | all 7 Jer | u 7 salem | — ' 
c | And 7 they shall | burn 7 to | geth 7 er. | ' 

If these sentences be read with their accents, as they 
are here marked out, they will have no pause whatever 
of the voice, from the beginning to the end. It is not 
possible, however, to read long sentences, without 
making pauses in them. Four or five measures are the 
most that can be sounded together, without stopping. 
If we try to utter more, we shall lose our breath. The 
following sentence will serve as an example. 

c I | can 7 not my | Lords 7 I | will 7 not | join 7 in con | 
grat 7 u | la 7 tion [ on 7 mis | fortune and dis | grace'.' 

Hardly any one will be able to read this sentence, 
as it is here marked out, without stops of any kind. 
They will be obliged to pause for breath before they 
reach the end. Yet the accented syllables are all 
marked rightly. Let us see whether there is not some 
means by which we can mark out the places where, 



ACCENT. 79 

without violating the sense, we may be allowed to 
pause for breath. 

Pauses in speech are of various lengths, some taking 
up a whole measure, or even more ; others only taking 
half a measure. The following are examples of those 
which are most commonly used. 

1. Where two accented syllables come together, the 
voice is commonly compelled to pause between them, 
through the unaccented portion of the first measure. 
This pause was exhibited in the repetition of the ac- 
cented syllable c there 7 — there 7 .' It would be thus 
marked, ' | there 7 1 | there 7 .' 

£ | No 7 ah | went 7 1 | in 7 .' 
c Then 7 they j went 7 1 | in 7 unto | Noah 7 . [ ' 
< Then 7 the | Lord 7 1 ] shut 7 him [ in 7 .' 
c And 7 in the | six 1 | hundredth | year 7 . 5 

If, however, the first accented syllable be indefinite 
in its quantity, we may make it so long in its sound, as 
to run it through the time of the whole measure, and 
so not leave any pause between it and the next. This 
would be very often done, in solemn reading. 

Yet 7 1 | O 7 | Lord' \ God 7 1 | most 7 1 \ holy | 

O 7 1 Lord' | most 7 1 | migh 7 ty. | 

In 7 the | self 1 [ same' | day 7 | entered | N 7 oah. 

This pause is so short and unimportant, that it is not 
worth while to mark it. It has only to be remembered 
that where two accented syllables come together, a 
pause of half a measure may be made between them ; 



80 ACCENT. 

but that if the former be indefinite, it need not be 
made. In the scored examples, (p. 102 to 116) the 
rest (1) is not printed, unless where the sense may 
happen to require a pause. 

6 In 7 the | self | same' | day 7 [ entered [ Noah 7 . | 
6 Sir 7 1 | P in the | most 7 ex [ press 7 | terms 7 | — ' 

2. A pause may be made, if the sense requires it, 
through the accented portion of the measure. Thus : 

' When 7 he had | end 7 ed | 1 he | turn'ed to the | south 
| side 7 of the | scaffold | 1 and [ said 7 . | ' 

6 Hav 7 ing | ut 7 tered a | short' | prayer 7 | 1 he | gave 7 
the | sig 7 nal | 1 to the [ ex 7 e | cu 7 tioner. | ' 

The same rest is inserted, wherever a sentence be- 
gins on an unaccented syllable, in order to show to the 
reader, that it does not come at the beginning of the 
measure. Thus : 

1 ' And the | wa 7 ters pre | vail 7 ed upon the | earth 7 . | ' 
1 < To | satisfy him | 1 the | door 7 of the | bed- 
chamber | 1 was | half 7 | o 7 pened. | ' 

1 c I [ know 7 | that 7 my Re | deem 7 er | liv 7 eth. j ' 

3. Pauses may take up the whole time of measure. 
Thus: 

' P am a | ma 7 zed | 1 1 | yes 7 my | Lords 7 1 | P am 
a | ma 7 zed at his | Gra 7 ce's | speech 7 . | ' 

4 One 7 | dead 7 | u 7 niform | silence | 1 1 | reign 7 ed over 
the | whole 7 | re 7 gion. j ' 

' When 7 a | man 7 hath ] once 7 | forfeited | 1 the | 
rep 7 u | ta 7 tion | 1 of his in | teg rity | 1 1 | nothing will 



ACCENT. 81 

| then' | serve 7 his | turn 7 | 1 1 j neither | truth 7 | nor' [ 
falsehood. | ' 

In the scored exercises, the rests are omitted in the 
notation used to express this pause. Thus : 

6 If I as | cend 7 | up 7 into j heaven | | thou 7 art | 
there 7 . | ' 

' 1 To | send 7 forth' the | merciless | In 7 dian | | thirst- 
ing for | blood 7 ! | 1 a j gainst 7 | whom' ? | | your 7 1 
pro'testant | brethren ! | ' 

4. Pauses may be made through 'a measure and a 
half, or two measures ; and sometimes even through 
more. 

' 1 I | make 7 the as j section | 1 de | lib 7 erately | [ 1 
I re | peat 7 it [ 1 and | call 7 on j a 7 ny | man 7 who [ hears' 
me | 1 to | take 7 | down 7 my | words 7 . | ' 

' Are 7 you | competent | 1 to trans [ fer 7 them to the 
I British I parliament ? Mill an 7 swer I no 7 . I - 

c Then 7 shall be | brought 7 to [pass 7 [ 1 the | say 7 ing 
that is | written | | Death 7 [ 1 is | swallowed [ up 7 | 1 
in | victory | j O 7 ] Death 7 [ | where 7 is thy | sting 7 ? [ f j 
O 7 | Grave 7 | | where 7 is thy | vic'tory? j j 7 The [ sting 7 
of | death 7 j T is j sin 7 j | 1 and the [ strength 7 of | sin 7 I 
1 is the | law 7 . | [ 1 But | thanks 7 be to j God 7 j 1 who 
| giv 7 eth us the | victory j | through 7 our [ Lord 7 | Je 7 - 
sus j Christ. 7 | | 

These longest pauses, of course, only take place 
between sentences, i. e. in places where, in common 
printing, full stops would be made. 

Some other pauses may perhaps be seen in the 
scored exercises. They may, however, be so easily 
8 



82 ACCENT. 

explained by the teacher, while going through them, 
that it is not worth while to describe them all here. 

The scored exercises, (p. 102 to 116) which have 
been so often referred to, must be all read over by the 
class, with the utmost care, the attention being directed, 
not only to tne emphasis, but also more especially to 
the accents, and to the marked pauses. The princi- 
ple on which they are divided into measures, and 
separated by pauses, must be repeated over and over, 
while reading them, till it has become perfectly plain 
and familiar to every one. When the scored pieces 
have been thus read and studied, the pupils must be 
required to score out for themselves, the whole or 
greater part of the two succeeding unscored pieces.* 

The mark (') over the accented syllables which has 
been used in all the examples given in this chapter, is 
omitted in the scored exercises. The pupil will have 
no difficulty in recollecting that the accented syllable is 
always the one which comes close after the bar. 

8 Such were the j last | hours | 1 and | such the 
final | close | 1 of this | great | man's | life. | 

* If this practice be diligently performed, there will be found 
few pupils, if any, in a class who will not have acquired the power 
of reading xoithout ever getting out of breath. The longer and 
more attentively it is persevered in, the more satisfactory will he 
the result. If it be neglected, or given up before the desired 
effect is produced, the whole labor of explaining the system of 
accent will have been lost. The author of this work may testify, 
from his own experience, to the utility of the course he recom- 
mends. Other teachers, who have employed a book of scored 
exercises which he published some years since, have assured him 
of their success, in teaching children to read carefully, and wind 
their stops. The hasty, gabbling, panting way in which most 



ANALYSIS. 83 

CHAPTER XIII. 

ON ANALYSIS. 

The preceding chapters of this work, have been 
taken up in giving an account, first, of the vocal ele- 
ments, by practising on which we may obtain a correct 
articulation, and then, of the different uses of the ele- 
ments of expression. It was stated, at the outset, that 
in order for any one to become a perfect speaker, it is 
necessary that he should have practised on all these, 
till he finds no difficulty whatever in performing any 
exercises on them, however difficult. A series of 
exercises have been given on each subject, which will 
probably be found sufficient. It is hoped that all the 
practice recommended on them, has been performed. 
If the pupil really wishes to succeed, it must be. 

But there is also another thing quite as necessary to 
make a good speaker. It is the right understanding 
of the meaning of what he speaks. Without this, he 
will be all the while making mistakes, however well he 
may be able to sound either the vocal elements or the 
elements of expression. He must know when and 
where he ought to use each element of expression, and 
he never can do that, if there be any part of what he 
has to say, which he does not understand. 

This, then, is the second thing to which he must 

children read, is enough to prove the necessity of some such plan. 
The teacher would do well to refer, for his own information on 
this subject, to the Grammar, where a much fuller explanation of 
it is given, than was thought necessary in a book for children. 



84 ANALYSIS. 

attend. When he comes to read, after having gone 
through his practice on the elements, he must endeavor 
to find the exact meaning of each sentence. This is 
what we call attending to the Analysis of speech. 

Some persons of course will be able to do this a 
great deal easier than others. Every body must, how- 
ever, learn to do it as well as he can. It will not be 
possible to give any rules by which it may be done 
without- attention. The only rule we can give is, to 
think about it. 

A few examples and remarks will perhaps be of use 
in showing a little 5 how we are to think in order to find 
out this point. 

First, we are to see which are the emphatic parts, 
and which the unemphatic. Those words and parts of 
the sentences which are most important, are to be 
made emphatic by the use of some one or other of 
the elements of expression, according to the kind of 
meaning which they ought to have. Those parts, 
which are, for any reason, of less consequence, are to be 
unemphatic. 

'They brought to the PHARISEES him that 
aforetime was blind. And it was the SABBATH- 
DAY when Jesus made the clay, and opened- his eyes. 
Then again the PHARISEES also asked him how he 
had received sight. He said unto them, he put clay 
upon mine eyes, and I iv ashed, and do see. 7 John ix. 
13, 14, 15. 

In this example, the first important part is the word 
L Pharisees.' We had been told before in the chapter 
that the people had been wondering at the cure of the 
blind man, and inquiring of him about it. We now 



ANALYSIS. 85 

hear, that they brought him to the Pharisees. This 
word then is emphatic. The words which follow are 
of no importance at all. The verse might just as well 
have been ' they brought him to the Pharisees ' as ' they 
brought to the Pharisees him that aforetime was blind. 5 
All these words are, in fact, no more than a kind of 
name for the man of whom we have heard so much 
already, and whose circumstances we all know so well. 
Of course these words are to be slurred. The second 
sentence gives a new piece of information, c all this 
happened on the sabbath-day.' The word c sabbath- 
day, 5 is therefore to be emphatic, but all the following 
words 'when Jesus made the clay and opened his 
eyes, 5 are to be slurred, because, as we know from 
what came before, what it was Jesus had been doing, 
we do not want to have it told again as important 
news. ' The Pharisees then asked him the old ques- 
tion. 5 6 Pharisees 5 is emphatic; all the words which 
are used to express the question we had been hearing 
before, are to be slurred. c He told them his story. 5 
Here ■ them 5 is to be emphasized because it is im- 
portant. The story, as it has been given before in the 
chapter, is of no importance, and must be lightly passed 
over. 

In the same way we may mark out the emphatic 
parts, and those which should be slurred in the follow- 
ing examples. 

1 But the Jews did not BELIEVE concerning him, 
that he had been blind and received his sight, until they 
called the PARENTS of him that had received his 
sight.' 

1 And they CAST him OUT. jesus HEARD 
8* 



86 



ANALYSIS. 



that they had cast him out ; and when he had found 
him, he said unto him, dost thou BELIEVE on the 
Son of God? He answered and said, who is he, 
Lord, that I might believe on him? ' 

< Art thou GREATER than our father JACOB, 
who gave us the well, and drank thereof, himself and 
his children, and his cattle ? 

Sometimes the slurred part is not really unimportant, 
the only reason for passing lightly over it, being that 
we want to give great prominence to some other part. 

6 What IS it, you must, in that event, submit to the 
people ? ' 

6 The smoothness of flattery cannot now avail, can- 
not SAVE us in tlds rugged and awful crisis? 

< What PROFIT hath a man of all his labor, which 
he taketh under the sun ? ' 

Wherever we have to connect together, in meaning, 
words which are placed away from one another in a 
sentence, we must slur the words which come between 
them. Thus: 

' They FOUGHT {like brave men,) LONG and 
WELL.' 

' Soon after this short repose, Argyle was brought, 
[according to order), to the laigh council house, 
{from which place is dated the letter to his wife), and 
from thence to the place of execution. On the 
scaffold, he had some discourse, as well with MR. an- 
nand, [a minister appointed by government to attend 
him), as with MR. chateris.' 

4 After dinner, he retired, {as was his custom,) to 
his bed-chamber, WHERE, (it is recorded,) he 
SLEPT quietly for about a quarter of an hour.' 



ANALYSIS. 87 

' It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw 
the Queen of France, [then the Dauphiness) at Ver- 
sailles.' 

1 He refused, (saying,) NO, NO, that will not 
help me.' 

1 The miserable inhabitants, (flying from their 
flaming villages,) in part were slaughtered.' 

' Ay, and that TONGUE of his, (that bade the Romans 
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books.) 
Alas ! (it cried) Give me some drink, Titinius, 
As a sick Girl.' 

It is of very great importance, that the slurred and 
emphatic parts of a sentence be thus always clearly 
marked out in the mind of the reader. It is not possi- 
ble for any one to read correctly without doing it. In 
many of the sentences given above as examples, it 
would altogether destroy the sense, if we should neglect 
either to emphasize strongly the prominent parts, or to 
slur over the unimportant ones. This will be seen at 
once, by reading the following sentences without em- 
ploying any slur of the voice. 

'Argyle was brought, according to order, to the 
Laigh Council House, from which place is dated the 
letter to his wife, and from thence to the place of exe- 
cution.' 

4 After dinner he retired, as was his custom, to his 
bed-chamber, where it is recorded, he slept quietly for 
about a quarter of an hour. 5 



88 ANALYSIS. 

1 — since T saw the queen of France, then the 
Dauphiness at Versailles.' 

c He refused saying, No, no, that will not help 



These readings would make it appear that Argyle 
wrote a letter from the Laigh Council House to his 
wife, and from her to the place of execution ; that his 
having had a quarter of an hour's sleep was recorded 
in his led chamber ; that the Queen of France was 
Dauphiness at Versailles, and of course no where else ; 
and that the man who is last spoken of refused to say 
No, no, &c. If, in any of the other sentences given, 
these slurred parts be read as if they were important, 
the pupil will soon see how much the meaning is in- 
jured by it in them also. 

< And they CAST him OUT. Jesus HEARD 
that they had CAST him OUT, &c* 

After we have fixed upon the emphatic and slurred 
parts of every sentence, the next thing to be observed 
is the kind of feeling with which it should be read. 
It will not do to read every sentence in the same hum- 
drum way, as is commonly done in schools. 

Some things are to be read lightly, in the way in 
which we should tell a story. 

' On the side of the victors almost sixty thousand 
men had been engaged, and more than one-fourth were 
left on the field. The number of the vanquished, and 
the amount of their loss are unknown. By the vanity 
of the Norman historians the English army has been 
exaggerated beyond the limits of credibility : by that of 



ANALYSTS. 



89 



the native writers it has been reduced to a handful of 
resolute warriors ; but both agree that with Harold 
and his brothers perished all the nobility of the south 
of England ; a loss which could not be repaired. 5 

L Then Martha, as soon as she heard that Jesus was 
coming, went and met him : but Mary sat still in the 
house.' 

4 And the Philistines fought, and Israel w T as smitten, 
and they fled every man to his tent, and there was a 
very great slaughter. 5 

[Such passages as these must never be read with 
violent emphasis, such as we often should use in de- 
claiming.] 

'NATIONAL PRIDE, INDEPENDENCE of 
our COUNTRY, these we are told by the Minister 
are only vulgar topics, fitted for the meridian of 
the mob, but utterly unworthy the consideration of 
this house, or of the matured understanding of 
the noble Lord w T ho condescends to instruct it. 5 

' But it seems this is an age of reason, and the 
ti3ie and the person are at last arrived that are to 
dissipate the errors that have overspread the past 
generations of ignorance. 5 

In both these examples there should be a good deal 
of scornful feeling given. This will require unequal 
waves on those syllables which are printed in small 
capitals. The emphatic words are all marked by 
capitals. It will not do to put the unequal wave on all 
of them. Suppose, now, such passages to be read with 
very slow time, as though their meaning was solemn, 



90 ANALYSIS. 

instead of scornful, such reading would strike every- 
one as very faulty. 

Other passages, which are really solemn, would re- 
quire long quantity throughout, and emphatic equal 
waves of the voice on all the emphatic indefinite 
syllables. 

' But thou, O Lord, have MERcy upon us misera- 
ble ofFENDers. Spare thou those, God, who 
confess their faults. ResTORE thou those who 
are penitent; accoRDing to thy promises decLARED 
unto mankind in Christ Jesus our Lord.' 

' Our FAther, who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy 
name. Thy KiNGdom come. Thy will be done 
on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our 
DAily bread, and forGiVE us our trespasses as we for- 
give them that trespass against us. And lead us not 
into tempTAtion : but deliver us from Evil. For thine 
is the KiNGdom, and the power, and the GLory, for 
ever and ever Amen.' 

In the descriptions which have been given of the 
elements of expression and their uses, enough has been 
said to explain to any one who has thoroughly studied 
them, for what kind of feeling each of them should be 
employed. All we have to do here is to show the 
importance of examining every passage we read, to 
see what feeling ought to be expressed in reading it. 
When we have done this, it will be easy to give it the 
right elements. 

Most people, who have thought little on the subject, 
have fancied that emphasis consists in merely sounding 
some words louder than the rest. Those who have 



ANALYSIS. 91 

gone through this little book, will know better. They 
will understand that emphasis may be given by the in- 
creased use of any of the elements of expression, and 
that each modification or combination of these gives a 
different kind of emphasis. They will see, there- 
fore, the necessity there is of knowing what kind of 
emphasis is wanted, as well as the words on which it is 
wanted. This can only be known by pursuing the 
second process of analysis here explained.* 

Neither process of analysis then must be neglected, 
even on a single sentence, in reading the course of ex- 
ercises given at the end of this book. If the pieces 
are read without it, they might almost as well not be 
read at all. 

Before concluding this chapter, something should be 
said on the use of what is called ' Transition of Voice.' 

By transition of voice, properly so called, we mean 
a marked and sudden change between two passages, in 
any of the elements of expression. Thus, we may 
change from quick to slow, from forcible to weak, from 
a high pitch to a low one, he. Of course, such changes 
must be made only in places, where the feeling to 
be expressed by the speaker, or the current of the 
thought, changes also. In all such cases, a proper analy- 
sis of the piece will direct us to make this transition. 
The following may serve as examples in which violent 
transition should be used. 

? At last, turning to poor Dick, " As for you, you 
have always been a sad dog ; you'll never come to 
good; you'll never be rich; I leave you a shilling, to 

* The teacher will find plenty of additional examples of this sec- 
ond process of analysis in the chapters on Emphasis, Emotion, and 
Drift, in the Grammar of Elocution. 



92 ANALYSIS. 

buy a halter ! " " Ah, father," cries Dick, without 

any emotion, " may Heaven give you life and health to 
enjoy it yourself." ' 

The speech of the father is angry, that of the son, 
trifling. There must therefore be a marked transition 
from the one to the other. 

6 Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause 
of liberty, and in such a country as that, which we pos- 
sess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can 

send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight 

our battles alone. There is a just God, who presides 
over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up 
friends, to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is 
not to the strong alone ; it is to the vigilant, the active, 

the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. 

Even if we were base enough to desire it, it is now too 
late to retire from the contest.' 

In this example there are two transitions needed. 
The first sentence is extremely energetic, and requires 
deep downward slides on the emphatic words with a 
considerable degree of force throughout. The second 
sentence begins, as if the speaker had just recollected 
something he had not been thinking of before. — 6 Be- 
sides, sir, .' Of course this must not run on with 

the same violence as the words before it. The change 
of feeling must be marked by a transition from great 
energy to apparent calmness. In the following sen- 
tences the voice must gradually recover its energy, as 
the feelings of the speaker may be supposed to be 
gradually warming. A second transition, of the same 
character with the first, will then be required on the 
second, c Besides, sir, .' 



ANALYSIS. 93 

Another use of violent transition is, to give very 
marked emphasis to one or both of the parts separated 
by it, and particularly to the last. 

'The war is inEvitable, — and let it come! — I re- 

PEAT it, Sir, LET it COME.' 

Let the first part of this example be spoken on a 
pretty high note, with strong downward slides on i war ' 
and ' ev : ' the second should then follow on a much 
lower note, and with slower time. The third part 
should have an earnest, but conversational intonation ; 
and the fourth a still lower note, and still more extend- 
ed quantity than the second. There ought to be a 
considerable pause made between each. These transi- 
tions will be found to give extraordinary energy. 

'Are you competent to transfer your legislative 

rights to the French Council of Five-Hundred ? 

Are you competent to transfer them to the British Par- 
liament ? ' 

The first question here will require a high note 
and quick time throughout. The second must be 
asked in a low pitch, with all the solemnity of long 
drawn quantity. 

A species of transition much less violent than that 
which the preceding examples have been employed to 
illustrate, should be made in reading, to mark out to 
the ear the beginning of the paragraphs, or other divis- 
ions in a piece. This transition consists, commonly, in 
a slight abatement either of the force or rapidity of 
the voice. Examples enough are to be found in the 
reading exercises. 
9 



94 



CONCLUSION. 

In conclusion, let it be repeated that Elocution is 
not to be learnt without diligent and persevering exer- 
cise of the voice. If the pupil has been made to un- 
derstand all the explanations of the elements of Elocu- 
tion which are contained in the foregoing pages, and to 
distinguish by his ear between the different modifica- 
tions of sound which the examples are intended to ex- 
hibit, he will indeed have done much. He will have 
learnt a good deal that may afterwards be made useful, 
and will have improved his ability to criticise the speak- 
ing of others. His voice, however, will be little, if 
at all, improved, unless all the elementary exercises 
have been thoroughly gone through. His power to 
use his voice in reading, or in speaking, will not be 
bettered, unless he proceed to practise himself in this 
department, by reading in the manner which has been 
pointed out. The system of accent must be perfectly 
understood to make him preserve his breath ; the habit 
of correct analysis must be formed, to make him ex- 
press the sense. 

We do not claim the power of working miracles, of 
manufacturing good Elocutionists without labor. All 
we boast of having accomplished, is, the having pointed 
out a system of exertion, by which, with as little fatigue 
as possible, the pupil may arrive at excellence. To 
have mastered all that is contained in this book will be 
as much as a class of children can accomplish. More 
will be required, however, to perfect the delivery of the 
adult. Elocution is, like music, painting, or sculpture, 
a difficult, though an elegant and highly useful art. 



APPENDIX. 95 

It has been suggested by a gentleman, well known 
as a successful instructer of children, to whose judi- 
cious and valuable hints, the author has been much 
indebted, that it would be useful to collect together all 
the tables which have been given for practice, as an 
appendix, to which pupils might refer while pursuing 
their course of reading, or at any other time, after they 
had become masters of the theory laid dow T n in the 
book itself. An Appendix of this nature is therefore 
inserted before the reading exercises. It will be found 
of utility to all teachers who would continue the drill- 
ing of their classes, after they have recited the explan- 
atory parts of the preceding chapters, or to any pupils 
who may have ambition enough to pursue the improve- 
ment of their voice, with real ardor. 



APPENDIX. 

I. Tables for practice on the Vocal Elements. 
1. The 8 long tonic elements. 

1 ee, as in the words ee-1, m-e, ea-t, bel-ie-ve 

2 oo, oo-ze, m-o-ve, tr-we, 1-tMe 

3 a, a-le, ai-r, pr-aj/ 

4 a', a-llj 1-aw-d, 1-o-rd, aw-ful 

5 a", a-rm, 1-aw-nch, a-fter 

6 o, o-ld, n-o, oa-k, ow-n 

7 ou, ou-r, v-ow [st-ye 
8^i, i-sle, 1-ie, th-j/-me, beautif-y, 



96 APPENDIX. 

2. The six short tonic elements, 

1 i 7 , as in the words i-t, w-i-11, beaut-y 

2 u, p-M-U, f-oo-t, w-o-lf 

3 e, c-dge, m-e-t, h-ea-d 

4 o', o-bject, n-o-t, o-live 

5 a 7// , a-t, m-a-n [w-nder, mann-a 

6 e 7 h-e-r, h-ea-rd, f-i-rm, w-o-rd, 

3. The fifteen subtonic elements. 

1 b, as in the words &-old, &-ul-&, El-5e 
* df-are, ha-rf 
g--ive, ha-g- 
/-owj a-ZZ 
m-ine, ai-m 
w-otj ow-n 
si-ngf 
ai-r, oa-r 

r-ow, r-uin, b-r-ow 
u-0Wj sa-ve, li-ve, p/t-ial 
t#-ot, w-ent 

y-et [X-erxes 

z-one, ha-;re, song-s, rai-.se> 
jA-en, soo-the, smoo-th 
a-z-ure, preci-sz-on 

4. The nine atonic elements. 

1 p,* as in the words p-ull, ha-p, a-pe 

2 t, tf-ake, sa-£, la-te 

3 k, A-ind, loo-A, c-ow, a-cAe, lo-ck 

4 f, /-ace, i-/, o-jf, ^A-ysic, lau-g-A 

5 wh, toA-at, wA-en 

* See page 27— the Note. 



2 


A, 


3 


g> 


4 1, 


5 


m, 


6 


n, 


7 


n &> 


8 


r> 


9 


r', 


10 


v, 


11 


w, 


12 


y> 


13 


z, 


14 


th, 


15 


zh, 



APPENDIX. 97 

6 h, as in the words A-it, /i-orse 

7 s, 5-aw, hiss, era.se 

8 th 7 , £/i-ink, ear-^/i [ous, na-tfi-on 

9 sh, $A-ake, har-s/i, o-ce-an, gra-ci- 

5. Words to be divided into their elements and repeat- 
ed correctly, in order to improve articulation. 



God 


g-o-d * 


Lord 


l-a'-r-d 


wants 


w-o 7 n-t-s 


orbs 


a'-r-b-z 


offal 


o'-f-l 


awful 


a'-f-l 


nostril 


n-o'-s-tf-r'-i'-l 


whelmed 


wh-e-Z-m-d 


delft 


d-e-Z-/-* 


bulb'd 


b-e'-l-b-d 


bulbs 


ft-e'-l-b-z 


strength 


s-t-r f -e-ng-th f 


stretch 


s -t-r'-e-tsh 


stretch'd 


s-t-r f -e-tsh-t 


offering 


o'-f-e'-r'-i'-ng 


thumbscrew 


th / -e / -m-s-£-r'-oo 


whisps 


wh-\!s-ps 


rythm 


x'-\!-th'-m 


christmas 


fe-r'-i'-s-m-e^ 


terrible 


t-e-r'-i'-b-l 


impossible 


i'-m-p-o'-s-i'-i-Z 


wafts 


w-a"-f-ts 


attempts 


a ,f/ -t-e-m-ts 



* The elements marked in italics are those which are most likely 

to be left out or mistaken. 
9* 



98 





APPENDIX. 


traitor 


f-r'-a-t-e'-r 


pray 


p-r-a 


wreath'd 


r'-ee-th-d 


wreaths 


r-ee-th'-s 


sprightly- 


s-p-r' -i't-\-i r 


through 


th'V-oo 


filch 


MA-sh 


amiable 


a-m-i'-e'-t-Z 


brow 


b-r'-ou 


scream 


s-k-r'-ee-m 


screechowl 


s-Jc-r'-ee-t-sh-ou-] 


breadths 


b-r'-e-d-th'-s 


hedged 


h-e-d-zh-d 


bulge 


snail 


fall'st 


urged 


false 


Humphrey 


entomb'd 


capable 


hang'd 


respectable 


songs 


example 


harp'd 


apple 


bursts 


trumpet 


search'd 


triumph 


thistle 


burnt 


thorough 


misrule 


swerved 


sub-prior 


swivel 


thanksgiving 


travels 


uproar 


muzzle 


drawler 


spasms 


swamps 


fetch'd 


vex'd 


masks 





APPENDIX. 99 

6. Sentences to be repeated for the same purpose. 
Whilst* bloody treason flourished o'er us. 

The breadth thereof was ten cubits. 

Then rushed the steed, to battle driven. 

Thou look'st from thy throne in the clouds, and 
laugh'st at the storm. 

Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide. 

When shall we venture to tell what was whispered to 
us? 

Whence and what art thou, execrable shape ? 

The short and simple annals of the poor. 

Hold off your hands, gentlemen. 

His attempts were fruitless. 

Overwhelmed with whirlwinds. 

Up the high hill he heaves the huge round stone. 

The dogs barked and howVd. 

The word filch is of doubtful derivation. 

He was hedged in on every side. 

The acts of the Apostles. 

Can you say crackers, crime, cruelty, crutches ? 

The heights, depths, and breadths of the subject. 

Search the Scriptures. 

Can you whet a wet razor ? 

We saw on the road large droves of cattle. 

It was the act, of all the acts of government, the most 
objectionable. 

A frame of adamant. 

The attempt, and not the deed, confounds us. 

Do you mean plain or playing cards? 

Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears the palm. 

* Those words are printed in italics which are most frequently 
mispronounced. 



100 APPENDIX. 

She swore, in faith 'twas strange, 'twas wondrous 
strange, 'twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful. 

Boundless, endless, and sublime ! 

MarWst thou ? 

Your healths, gentlemen. 

Round the rude ring the ragged rascal ran. 

And on their hinges grate harsh thunder. 

It is more formidable than the most clamorous oppo- 
sition. 

What an acknowledgement of the superiority of vir- 
tue! 

The strength of his nostrils is terrible. 

He snarls, but dares not bite. 

Where the wild beasts find shelter, but I can find none. 

Have you a copy of Smith's Thucydides ? 

I thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of 
my thumb. 

Peter Piper picked a peck of pepper. 

II. Tables for practice on the Simple Slides. 

1. ee, oo, a, a 7 , a", o, ou, i. 

2. i, u, e, o 7 , a //; , e 7 . 

3. all, old, fair, heal, dare, save, hail, thine, you, I, 
he, hound. 

4. gone, will, sit, out, ice, ought, past, done, ask, bite. 

III. Tables for practice on the Waves. 

1. ee, oo, a, a ; , a", o, ou, i. 

2. save, all, old, fair, praise, wo, move, arm, roll. 



APPENDIX. 101 

IV. Tables for practice on Radical Stress, or Abrupt- 

ness. 

1. i', u, e, o', a'", e ; . 

2. ee, oo, a, a 7 , a", o, ou, i. 

3. it, end, edge, odd, at, up, eat, ask, art, all, ought, 
oaf, old, out, ice, e-ver, offer, act-'ive, und-er, oth-er, 
artf-ful, ov-er, oust-ed, ic-y. 

V. Tables for practice on Vanishing and Compound 

Stress. 

1. ee, oo, a, a 7 , a ;/ , o, ou, i. 

2. he, you, may, dare, past, will, hound, bite, gone, 

shall. 

VI. Tables for practice on Median Stress. 

1. ee, oo, a, a', a", o, ou, i. 

2. aid, save, all, heal, old, fair, praise, wo, move, 
know, arm, hail, bear, roll, lord, thine, lone-ly, roy-al, 
glo-ry, un-known, con-ceal. 

VII. Exercises on Quantity. 

1 . Repeat the exercises given on the Vocal Ele- 
ments, in order to acquire command over very short 
quantity. 

2. Repeat those given on Median Stress, and, if ne- 
cessary, those on Vanishing and Compound stress also, 
to acquire command over long quantity. 

3. b, d, g, 1, m, n, ng, r, v, z, th. 

4. sob, sad, dog, tell, him, son, song, her, or, live, his, 

5. old, aid, all, heal, bound, end, known, aim, fair, 
our, save, raise, soothe, hol-y. 



102 



EXERCISES. 



EXERCISE I. 

REPLY OF MR. PITT, 

(The late earl of Chatham.) 

1 The a | trocious | crime | 1 of | being a | young | 
man, | 1 which the | honorable | gentleman j has, with 
such | spirit and | decency, | charged up | on me, j | 1 1 
shall | neither at | tempt to | palliate, | nor de | ny ; | 
1 but con | tent myself with | wishing | 1 that | I may 
be | one of | those | 1 whose | follies | cease with their 
| youth ; | | 1 and | not of | that | number | 1 who are | 
ignorant | 1 in | spite of ex | perience. | | | 

Whether | youth | 1 can be im | puted to | any man | 
T as a re | proach, | 1 1 1 will not as | sume | 1 the | 
province of de j termining : | | 1 but | surely, | age | may 
become | justly con | temptible, | | if the oppor | tuni- 
ties | 1 which it | brings | 1 have | passed a | way | 1 
with | out im | provement, | 1 and | vice | 1 ap | pears 
to pre | vail | 1 when the | passions | 1 have sub | sided. 

| 1 The | wretch | 1 that, | after having | seen the | 
consequences | 1 of a | thousand | errors, | 1 con | tinues 
| still to | blunder, | | 1 and whose | age | 1 has | only | 
added | obstinacy | 1 to stu | pidity, | T Is | surely the 
| object | 1 of | either ab | horrence | 1 or con | tempt ; 
| 1 and de | serves not | 1 that his | grey | head | 1 
should se | cure him from | insults. | | | Much | more | 1 is 
| he to be ab | horred | who, | as he has ad | vanced in 
| age, | 1 has re | ceded from | virtue, | 1 and be | comes | 



EXERCISES, 103 

more | wicked | 1 with | less temp | tation : j | 1 who | 
prostitutes him | self for | money | 1 which he | cannot 
en | joy, | 1 and | spends the re | mains of his | life | 1 
in the | ruin of his | country. | | | 

1 But | youth | 1 is | not my | only | crime. | I 

have been ac | cused | 1 of | acting a the | atrical | 
part. | 

1 A the | atrical | part, | may | either im | ply | some 
pe | culi | arities of | gesture, | 1 or a | dissimu | lation 
of my | real | sentiments, | 1 and an a | doption of the 
| opinions and | language f 1 of an [ other | man. | | 

1 In the | first | sense, | 1 the | charge is | too | 
trifling | 1 to be con | futed : | | 1 and de | serves | 
only to be | mentioned, | | that it | may be de | spised. | 
| I am at | liberty | 1 (like | every | other | man) [1 to 
| use my [ own | language : | 1 and | though I | may | 1 
per | haps, | Thave | some | 1am | bition, | yet, to | please | 
this | gentleman, | I shall | not | lay myself | 1 under | 
any re | straint, | T or | very | T so | licitously | copy | his 
| diction, | 1 or his | mien ; | 1 how | ever | 1 ma | 
tured by | age, | 1 or | modelled by ex | perience. | 
1 If | any* man | shall, | 1 by | charging me | 1 with the | 
atrical be j havior, j 1 im | ply | 1 that I | utter | any 
[ sentiments | but my | own, | 1 I shall | treat | him | as 
aca | lumniator | 1 and a | villain: | | nor shall | any 
pro | tection | shelter him j 1 from the [ treatment | 
which he de | serves, j | 1 I | shall, | 1 on | such an oc | 
casion, | 1 with | out | scruple | trample upon | all | 
those | forms | 1 with which | wealth and | dignity [ 1 
en | trench themselves ; | | nor shall | any thing | but | 
age | 1 re | strain my re | sentment : | [ age, | 1 which | 
always | brings ] one | privilege ; | J that | 1 of | being 



104 EXERCISES. 

| insolent | 1 and | super | cilious | 1 with | out | punish* 
ment. | 

But with re [ gard to | those [ whom I have of | fend- 
ed, | I am of o | pinion | 1 that | if I had | acted a | 
borrowed | part, | I should have a | voided their | cen- 
sure. | | 1 The | heat that of | fended them | 1 is the 
| ardor of con | viction, | 1 and that | zeal for the | ser- 
vice of my | country, | 1 which | neither | hope, | 1 nor | 
fear, | 1 shall | influence me | 1 to sup | press. | | 1 
I | will not | sit | uncon | cerned | while my | liberty | 1 
is in | vaded : | 1 nor | look in | silence | 1 upon | 
public | robbery. | | I will ex | ert my en | deavors 
| 1 (at what | ever | hazard) | 1 to re | pel the ag | 
gressor, | 1 and | drag the | thief to | justice, | | what | 
power | so | ever | 1 may pro | tect the | villainy, | 1 
and | who | ever | 1 may par | take | 1 of the | plunder, j 



EXERCISE II. 

st. Paul's defence before agrippa. 

Acts xxvi. 1. 

Then A | grippa | said unto | Paul, | | Thou art per | 
mitted to | speak for thy | self. | 1 1 Then [ Paul | stretched 
forth the [ hand, | 1 and | answered | 1 for him | self. | 

1 I | think myself | happy, | | King A | grippa, | 1 
be | cause I shall | answer for my | self | this | day | 1 
be | fore | thee, | touching | all the | things | 1 where | 
of | 1 I am ac | cused | 1 of the | Jews : | | wherefore | 
1 I be | seech thee | 1 to | hear me | patiently. | 

1 My manner of | life | 1 from my | youth, | 



EXERCISES. 105 

which was at the | first | 7 a | mong mine | own | na- 
tion | 1 at Je | rusalem, | know | all the | Jews ; | | 1 
which | knew me | from the be | ginning, | if they 
would | testify ; f 7 that | after the | most | straitest | sect 
| 7 of our re | ligion | 7 I | lived a | Pharisee. | 

7 And ] now | 7 I | stand | 7 and am | judged 1 7 for 
the | hope of the | promise | made of | God | unto our 
| fathers : | | 7 unto | which | promise | 7 our | twelve 
j tribes, | instantly | serving | God | day and | night, | 
hope to | come. | | 7 For | which | hope's | sake, | 
King A | grippa, | | I am ac | cused | 7 of the | Jews. 
| Why | should it be | thought | 7 a | thing in | credible 

II with I you, I 7 that I God I 7 should I raise the I dead ? 

i i j * i ii i i 

| I | verily | thought with my | self, | 7 that I | ought. 
to | do | many | things | contrary | 7 to the | name of | 
Jesus of | Nazareth. | | | 7 Which | thing | 7 I [ also | 
did | 1 in Je | rusalem : | 7 and | many of the | saints | 
7 did I | shut up in | prison, | | having re | ceived au | 
thority | 7 from the | chief | priests ; | | 7 and | when 
they were [ put to | death, | 7 I | gave | my | voice | 
7 a | gainst them. | | 7 And T | punished them | 1 oft | 
1 in | every | synagogue, | 1 and com | pelled them | 7 to 
bias | pheme ; | | 7 and | being ex | ceedingly | mad 
a | gainst them, | 7 I | persecuted them | even unto | 
strange | cities. | | Whereup | on as I [ went to Da | 
mascus, | | 7 with au | thority, | 7 and com | mission | 
7 from the | chief | priests, | 7 at | mid | day, | O | king, 
| 7 I | saw in the | way | 7 a | light from | heaven, | 7 
a | bove the | brightness | 7 of the | sun, | | shining j 
round a | bout | me, | 7 and | them which | journeyed 
| with me. | | | 7 And | when we were | all j fallen to 
the | earth, | 7 I | heard a | voice | speaking unto me, J 7 
10 



106 EXERCISES. 

and | saying | 1 in the | Hebrew | tongue, | | Saul, | 
Saul, | why | persecutest thou | me? | 1 it is | hard j 
for thee | T to | kick a | gainst the | pricks. | | 1 And I 
| said, | Who | art thou, | Lord ? | \ 1 And he | said, | 
1 I am | Jesus, | | whom thou | persecutest. | | 1 But 
| rise j 1 and | stand upon thy | feet ; | | 1 for | I have 
ap | peared unto thee | 1 for | this | purpose, | 1 to | 
make thee a | minister | 1 and a | witness | | both of | 
these | things | which thou hast | seen, | 1 and of | those 
| things | 1 in the | which | 1 I will ap | pear unto 
thee ; | | 1 de | livering thee | 1 from the | people, j 
and from the | Gentiles, | 1 unto | whom | now I | send 
thee ; j T to | open their | eyes, | 1 and to | turn them 
| 1 from | darkness | 1 to | light, | 1 and from the | power 
of | Satan | 1 unto | God ; | | 1 that | they may re | 
ceive | 1 for | giveness of | sins, | 1 and in | heritance | 
1 a | mong | them which are | sanctified, | 1 by | faith | 
1 that is in | me. | | Whereup | on, | O | king 
A | grippa, | | I was | not diso | bedient | 1 unto the 
j heavenly | vision : | | 7 but | showed | first | 1 unto 
| them of Da | mascus, | | 1 and at Je | rusalem, | 1 
and through | out | all the | coasts of Ju | dea, | 1 and 
| then | 1 to the | Gentiles, | ] that they should re | pent 
| 1 and | turn to | God, | 1 and | do | works | meet for 
re | pentance. | | 1 For | these | causes | 1 the | Jews 
| caught me in the | temple, | | 1 and | went a | bout j 
1 to | kill me. | | Having | therefore | T ob | tained | help 
of | God, | 1 I con | tinue j 1 unto | this | day, | wit- 
nessing | both to | small and | great, | | saying | none j 
other | things | 1 than | those | 1 which the | prophets j 
1 and | Moses | 1 did | say, | 1 should | come, | | 1 
that I Christ I 1 should I suffer, I 1 and that | he should 



EXERCISES. 107 

be the | first | 1 that should | rise from the | dead, | 1 
and should | show | light | 1 unto the | people, | and 
to the | Gentiles. | | 1 And as he | thus j spake for 
himself, | | Festus | said with a | loud | voice, | | Paul, j 
thou art be | side thyself; j | much | learning | 1 doth j 
make thee | mad. | | But he | said, | 1 I am | not | 
mad, | 1 most | noble | Festus, | 1 but | speak forth the 
| words of | truth | 1 and | soberness. | | 1 For the | 
king | knoweth of | these | things, | 1 be | fore [ whom 
| also | 1 1 1 speak j freely ; | | 1 for | I am per | suaded 
| 1 that | none of | these | things | 1 are | hidden from | 
him ; | | 1 for | this | thing | 1 was | not | done in a \ 
corner. | | King A | grippa, | 1 be | lievest thou the | 
prophets? | | 1 I | know | 1 that thou be | lievest. | 
Then | 1 A | grippa | said unto | Paul, | Al | most | thou 
per | suadest | me | 1 to be a j Christian. | | And | 
Paul said, | 1 I | would to | God, ] 1 that j not only | 
thou, | 1 but | also | all that | hear me | this | day, | 1 
were | both | al | most, | 1 and | alto | gether | such as \ 
I am, | T ex | cept | these | bonds. | 



EXERCISE III. 

SONG OF MOSES. 
Exodus xv. 1. 

Then | sang | Moses | 1 and the | children of | Is- 
rael | this | song | 1 unto the | Lord, j 1 and j spake, | 
saying, | 1 I will | sing unto the | Lord, | 1 for he hath 
| triumphed | gloriously : | | 1 the | horse | 1 and his | 
rider I hath he I thrown into the I sea. I I \ 1 The 



108 



EXERCISES. 



Lord | 1 is my | strength and | song, | 1 and | he is 
be | come my sal | vation ; | | he is | my | God, | 1 
and | I will pre | pare him an | habi | tation; | | 1 
my | father's | God, | 1 and | I will ex | alt him. | | 1 
The | Lord | 1 is a | man of | war: | 1 Je | hovah | 1 
is his | name. | | Pharaoh's | chariots | 1 and his | 
host | 1 hath he | cast into the | sea : [ | 1 his j chosen 
| captains | also | 1 are | drowned in the | Red | Sea. | 

| 1 The | depths | 1 have | covered them : | | 1 they 
| sank into the | bottom | 1 as a | stone. | | Thy | right | 
hand, | | Lord, | 1 is be | come | glorious in j power : 

| thy | right | hand, | | Lord, | 1 hath | dashed in | 
pieces | 1 the | enemy. | | 1 And in the | greatness of 
thine | excellency | thou hast | over | thrown | them 1 1 
that | rose up a | gainst thee ; | | 1 thou | sentest forth 
thy | wrath, | 1 which con | sumed them | 1 as | stub- 
ble. | | And with the | blast of thy | nortrils | 1 the 
| waters j 1 were | gathered to | gethur, j j 1 the | 
floods | stood | upright | 1 as an | 1 heap, | 3 and the | 
depths | 1 were con | gealed | 1 in the | heart of the 
| sea. | | 1 The | enemy | said, | I will pur | sue, | I 
will | over j take, | I will di | vide the | spoil ; | 1 my | 
lust | 1 shall be | satisfied | 1 up | on them : | | 1 I 
will | draw my | sword, | 1 my | hand shall des | troy 
them. | | Thou didst | blow with thy | wind, | 1 the 
| sea | covered them : | | 1 they | sank as | lead | 1 in 
the | mighty | waters. | | Who is | like unto | thee, | 
O | 1 Je | hovah | 1 a | niong the | gods ? | | Who is | 
like | thee, | | glorious in | holiness, | | fearful in | 
praises, | | doing | wonders ? | | 1 Thou | stretehedst 
out thy | right | hand, | 1 the | earth | swallowed 
them. | | | Thou | 1 in thy | mercy | 1 hast | led forth 



EXERCISES. 109 

the | people | 1 which | thou hast re | deemed : 
thou hast | guided them | 1 in thy | strength | 1 unto 
thy j holy | habi | tation. | | | 1 The | people shall j 
hear, | 1 and be a | fraid : | | sorrow | 1 shall take | 
hold | 7 on the in | habitants of | Pales | tina. | 
Then the | Dukes of ] Edom | 1 shall be a j mazed ; 
| 1 the | mighty | men of | Moab, | | trembling | 1 
shall take | hold up | on them : | j all the in | habitants 
1 of Ca | naan | T shall | melt a j way. | | | Fear 
and | dread | 1 shall | fall up | on them ; J | T by the 
| greatness of thine ( arm | they shall be as | still | 1 
as a | storie ; | 7 till | thy | people | pass | over, | 7 
which | thou hast | purchased. | | Thou shalt | bring 
them | in, | 1 and | plant them | 7 in the | mountain 
| 1 of thine in | heritance, | 7 in the | place, | O j 
Lord, j 7 which | thou hast | made j 1 for | thee to j 
dwell in ; | 1 in the | sanctuary, | O | Lord, | 7 which 
j thy | hands | 7 have es | tablished. | | 1 Je | hovah J 
7 shall | reign j 7 for | ever | 1 and | ever. J 



EXERCISE IV. 

THE EXILE OF ERIN. 
T. Campbell. 

7 There | came to the | beach | 1 a poor | exile of j 

Erin, | 
7 The | dew on his | thin | robe | 7 was | heavy and j 

chill ; | | 
7 For his | country he | sighed, | 7 when at | twilight 

re | pairing, | 
10* 



110 EXERCISES. 

1 To | wander a | lone | 1 by the | wind-beaten | 

hill. | | | 
1 But the | day-star | 1 at | tracted his | eye's sad de | 

votion ; | 
1 For it | rose | 1 on his | own native | isle of the | 

ocean, | 
1 Where | once | 1 in the | fervor of | youth's warm 

e | motion | 
1 He | sung the bold | anthem | 1 of | Erin go | 

bragh. | 
Sad is my | fate ! | 1 (said the | heart- | broken | stran- 

g er I 
1 The j wild-deer and | wolf | 1 to a | covert can | 

flee, | 
1 But | I have no | refuge | 1 from | famine and j 

danger, | 
1 A | home, and a | country | 1 re | main not to | 

me. | | 
Never a | gain | 1 in the | green | sunny | bowers | 
1 Where my | forefathers | liv'd | 1 shall I | spend the 

sweet | hours | 
1 Or | cover my j harp | 1 with the | wild woven | 

flowers | 
1 And | strike to the | numbers | 1 of | Erin go | 

bragh. | 
Erin ! | 1 my | country ! | 1 though | sad and for | 

saken, | 
1 In | dreams | 1 I re | visit thy | sea-beaten | shore : | 
1 But a | las ! | 1 in a | far foreign | land I a | waken, | 
1 And | sigh for the | friends | 1 that can | meet me 

no I more. I 



EXERCISES. Ill 

Oh ! I cruel | fate ! | 1 wilt thou | never re | place me | 
1 In a | mansion of | peace, | 1 where no | perils can 

| chase me ? | 
| Never a | gain shall my | brothers em | brace me, | 
T They | died to de | fend me, | 1 or | live to de | 

plore. | | | 
Where is my | cabin | door, | fast by the | wild | 

wood ? | 
j Sisters | and sire, | 1 did ye | weep for its | fall ? | | 
Where is the | mother that | looked on my | child- 
hood? | | | 
1 And | where is the | bosom- | friend, | dearer than | 

all ? | | | 
Ah ! | 1 my | sad | soul, | long a | bandoned by | 

pleasure, | 
Why did it | doat on a ] fast- fading | treasure ? | 
Tears, | 1 like the | rain-drops | 1 may | fall without | 

measure, | 
1 But | rapture and | beauty | 1 they | cannot re | call. | 
Yet 1 | all its | fond | 1 recol | lections sup | pressing | 
| One | dying | wish | 1 my | lone | bosom shall | draw. 

Erin ! | 1 an | exile | 1 be | queaths thee his | blessing | 
| Land of my | forefathers ! | | Erin go | bragh ! | 
Buried and | cold, j 1 when my | heart | stills her | 

motion, | 
| Green be thy | fields | sweetest | isle of the | ocean | 
1 And thy | harp-striking | bards | sing a | loud with 

de | votion | 
Erin | 1 ma | vournin ! | Erin | go | bragh. | 



112 



EXERCISES. 



EXERCISE V. 

lucy. — Wordsworth. 
Three | years | 1 she | grew, | 1 in | sun and | shower, 

Then | nature | said, | 1 6 a | lovelier | flower | 

1 On | earth | 1 was | never | sown : | 
This | child | I to my f self | 1 will | take ; | 
| She shall be | mine, | | and I will | make | 
1 A | lady | *I of my | own. | 

1 1 My | self | will to my | darling | | be, | 

1 Both | law and | impulse : | | 1 and with | me | 

1 The | girl | 1 in | rock | 1 and | plain, | 
1 In | earth and | heaven, | 1 in | glade and | bower, j 
1 Shall | feel | 1 an | over | seeing | power | 

1 To | kindle | 1 and re | strain. | 

6 She shall be | sportive | 1 as the | fawn | 

1 That | wild with | glee | 1 a | cross the | lawnj 

1 Or | up the | mountain | | springs ; | 
1 And | hers | 1 shall | be the | breathing | balm, | 
1 And | hers | 1 the | silence | 1 and the | calm | 

1 Of | mute in | sensate | things. | 

4 1 The | floating | clouds | 1 their | state shall | lend | 
1 To | her ; | | 1 for | her | 1 the | willow | bend ; | 

| Nor shall she | fail to | see, | 
Even in the | motions | 1 of the | storm | 
Grace | 1 that shall | mould | 1 the | maiden's | form,| 

1 By | silent | sympathy. | 

| 1 ' The | stars of | midnight | 1 shall be | dear | 
1 To I her ; II and she shall | lean her | ear | 



EXERCISES. 113 

1 In | many a | secret | place, | 
1 Where | rivulets | dance their | wayward | round ; | 
1 And | beauty, | | born of | murmuring | sound, | 

1 Shall | pass | into her | face. | 

1 6 And | vital | feelings of de | light | 

T Shall I rear her I form I 1 to I stately I height ; I 

1 Her | virgin | bosom | swell ; ] 
Such | thoughts ] 1 to | Lucy | 1 I will | give, | 
1 While | she and | I | 1 to | gether | live | 

Here j 1 in this | happy | dell.' | 

Thus | Nature | spake. | 1 The | work | 1 w T as | 

done. | t 

1 How [ soon | 1 my | Lucy's | race | 1 was | run ! | | 

1 She | died, | | 1 and | left to | me | 
1 This | heath, | 1 this | calm and | quiet | scene ; | 
| 1 The | memory of | what | has | been, | 

I 1 And I never I more I will I be. I 



EXERCISE VI. 

PAPER. A CONVERSATIONAL PLEASANTRY. 

Dr. Franklin. 

Some I wit of | old, | | such | wits of | old there | 

-were, | 
1 Whose | hints | 1 showed | meaning, | 1 whose 

al | lusions | care, | 
1 By | one | brave | stroke | T to | mark all | human | 

kind, | 
Called | clear | blank | paper | every | infant | mind ; | 



114 EXERCISES. 

Where | still, | 1 as | opening | sense | 1 her | dictates 

| wrote, | 
Fair | Virtue | put a | seal, [ 1 or | Vice, | 1 a | blot. | 
1 The | thought was | happy, | pertinent, and I true ! | 
1 Me | thinks a j genius | 1 might the | plan pur | 

sue. | | | 
I, | 1 (can you | pardon my pre | sumption ?) | | I | 
No | wit, | no | genius, | yet for | once, 1 1 will | try. 1 1 
Various the | paper, | various | wants pro | duce ; | 
1 The | wants of | fashion | elegance j 1 and | use. | 
Men | 1 are as | various ; j 1 and if | right I j scan, 
Each | sort of | paper | | repre | sents | some | man. | 
Pray | note the | fop ; | | half | powder | 1 and | half 

| lace ! | 
Nice as a | bandbox | 1 were | his ] dwelling | place. | ] 
He's the | gilt | paper, | 1 which a | part you | store, | 
1 And | lock from | vulgar | hands | 1 in the scru | 

toire. | 
1 Me | chanics, | servants, | farmers, | 1 and | so forth j 
1 Are | copy | paper, | 1 of in | ferior | worth ; \ 
Less | prized, | | more | useful; | 1 for your | desk 

de | creed ; J 
( Free to | all | pens, | 1 and | prompt at J every | 

need. | 
1 The | wretch | 1 whom | avarice | | bids to | pinch 

and | spare, | 
| Starve, | cheat | 1 and | pilfer, | 1 to en | rich an | 

heir, | 
1 Is | coarse | brown | paper ; | | such as | pedlars | 

choose | 
1 To | wrap up | wares | 1 which | better | men | 1 

will I use. I 



EXERCISES. 115 

Take | next | 1 the | miser's | contrast; | | 1 who de | 

stroys | 
Health, | fame and | fortune | 1 in a | round of | joys. 

1 Will | any | paper | match | him ? | | Yes, | 1 through 

I out ? I 
He's a | true | sinking j paper, | | past [ all | doubt. | 
1 The | retail | poli | tician's | anxious | thought | 
Deems j this side | always | right, | 1 and | that | stark 

| naught : | 
1 He | foams with | censure ; | 1 with ap [ plause he 

| raves ; | 
1 A | dupe to | rumors, | | 1 and a | tool to | knaves ; | 
He'll ( want | no | type | 1 his | weakness | 1 to pro | 

claim, | 
1 While | such a | thing as | fools-cap | 1 has a | name. 

1 The | hasty | gentleman, | 1 whose | blood runs | 

high ; | 
1 Who | picks a | quarrel | 1 if you | step a | wry ; | 
1 Who | can't a | jest, [la | hint, | 1 or | look en | 

dure ! | 
| What is | he ? | What ! j | Touch-paper | 1 to be | 

sure. | 

What are our | poets ? | | take them | 1 as they | fall, | 

Good, | bad, | rich, | poor; | much read, | not read at j 

all!j| 
Them | 1 and their | works j 1 in the | same | class | 

1 you'll | find: | 

| They are the | mere | waste-paper [ 1 of man | kind. 



116 EXERCISES. 

1 Ob | serve the | maiden, | | innocently | sweet! | 
She's | fair | white | paper ! | 1 an un | sullied | sheet ; 

ll 

1 On | which | 1 the | happy | man | 1 whom | fate or- 

| dains | 
1 May | write his | name, | 1 and | take her for his j 

pains. | 
One | instance [ more, | 1 and | only | one | 1 I'll | 

bring ! | 
'Tis the | great | man | 1 who | scorns a | little | thing ; 

1 Whose | thought, | 1 whose | deeds, | 1 whose | 

maxims | 1 are his | own ; | 
| Formed | on the | feelings | 1 of his j heart a | lone : 

True, | genuine, J royal | paper, | T is | his j breast ; | 
1 Of | all the | kinds | | most | precious, | | purest, | 

best ! I I I 



EXERCISE VII. 

BATTLE OF HASTINGS. LingCtrd. 

The spot which Harold had selected for this impor- 
tant contest, was called Senlac, nine miles from Hast- 
ings, an eminence opening to the south, and covered 
on the back by an extensive wood. As his troops 
arrived, he posted them on the declivity, in one com- 
pact and immense mass. In the centre, waved the 
royal standard, the figure of a warrior in the act of 
fighting, worked in thread of gold, and ornamented 



EXERCISES. 117 

with precious stones. By its side, stood Harold and 
his two brothers Gurth and Leofwin ; and, around 
them, the rest of the army, every man on foot. In 
this arrangement the king seems to have adopted, as 
far as circumstances would permit, the plan which had 
lately proved so fatal to the Norwegians, and which 
now, from the same causes, was productive of a simi- 
lar result. 

Probably he feared the shock of the numerous 
cavalry of the Normans. Both men and horses were 
completely cased in armor, which gave to their charge 
an irresistible weight, and rendered them almost invul- 
nerable by ordinary weapons. For the purpose of 
opposing them with more chance of success, Harold 
had brought with him engines to discharge stones into 
their ranks, and had recommended to his soldiers to 
confine themselves, in close fight, to the use of the 
battle-axe, a heavy and murderous weapon. 

On the opposite hill, William was employed in mar- 
shalling his host. In the front, he placed the archers 
and bowmen : the second line was composed of heavy 
infantry, clothed in coats of mail ; and, behind these, 
the duke arranged, in five divisions, the hope and the 
pride of the Norman force, the knights and men at 
arms. About nine in the morning, the army began to 
move, crossed the interval between the two hills, and 
slowly ascended the eminence on which the English 
were posted., The papal banner, as an omen of vic- 
tory, was carried in the front, by Toustain the fair, a 
dangerous honor, which two of the Norman barons 
had successively declined. 

At the moment when the armies were ready to en- 
11 



118 EXERCISES. 

gage, the Normans raised the national shout of < God 
is our help,' which was as loudly answered by the 
adverse cry of ' Christ's rood, the holy rood.' The 
archers, after the discharge of their arrows, retired to 
the infantry, whose weak and extended line was unable 
to make any impression on their more numerous 
opponents. William ordered the cavalry to charge. 
The shock was dreadful : but the English, in every 
point, opposed a solid and impenetrable mass. Neither 
buckler nor corslet would withstand the stroke of the 
battle-axe, wielded by a powerful arm and with un- 
erring aim ; and the confidence of the Normans melted 
away at the view of their own loss, and the bold coun- 
tenance of their enemies. 

After a short pause, the horse and foot of the left 
wing betook themselves to flight : their opponents 
eagerly pursued ; and a report was spread that William 
himself had fallen. The whole army began to waver; 
when the duke, with his helmet in his hand, rode 
along the line exclaiming, ' I am still alive, and, with 
the help of God, I shall still conquer. 5 The presence 
and confidence of their commander revived the hopes 
of the Normans ; and the speedy destruction of the 
English, who had pursued the fugitives, was fondly 
magnified into an assurance of victory. These brave, 
but incautious men had, on their return, been inter- 
cepted by a numerous body of cavalry; and, on foot 
and in confusion, they quickly disappeared beneath 
the swords, or rathe* the horses, of the enemy. Not 
a man survived the carnage. 

William led his troops again to the attack : but the 
English column, dense and immovable as a rock amidst 



EXERCTSES. 119 

the waves, resisted every assault. Disappointed and 
perplexed, the Norman had recourse to a stratagem, 
suggested by his success in the earlier part of the day. 
He ordered a division of horse to flee : they were 
pursued ; and the temerity of the pursuers was pun- 
ished with instant destruction. The same feint was 
tried with equal success in another part of the field. 
These losses might diminish the numbers of the Eng- 
lish ; but the main body obstinately maintained its 
position, and bade defiance to every effort of the 
Normans. 

During the engagement, William had given the 
most signal proofs of personal bravery. Three horses 
had been killed under him, and he had been com- 
pelled to grapple on foot with his adversaries. Harold 
had al^o animated his followers, both by word and 
example, and had displayed a courage worthy of the 
crown for which he was fighting. His brothers Gurth 
and Leofwin had perished already ; but as long as he 
survived, no man entertained the apprehension of 
defeat or admitted the idea of flight. A little before 
sunset an arrow, shot at random, entered his eye. 
He instantly fell ; and the knowledge of his fall re- 
laxed the efforts of the English. 

Twenty Normans undertook to seize the royal ban- 
ner ; and effected their purpose, but with the loss of 
half their number. One of them, who maimed with 
his sword the dead body of the king, was afterwards 
disgraced by William, for his brutality. At dusk, the 
English broke up, and dispersed through the wood. 

As William, attracted by the cries of the combatants, 
was hastening to the place, he met Eustace of Bou- 



120 EXERCISES. 

logne and fifty knights, fleeing with all their speed. 
He called on them to stop ; but the earl, while he was 
in the act of whispering into the ear of the duke, re- 
ceived a stroke on the back, which forced the blood 
out of his mouth and nostrils. He was carried in a 
state of insensibility to his tent. William's intrepidity 
hurried him forward to the scene of danger ; his pres- 
ence encouraged his men ; succors arrived ; and the 
English, after an obstinate resistance, were repulsed. 

On the side of the victors, almost sixty thousand 
men had been engaged, and more than one-fourth 
were left on the field. The number of the van- 
quished, and the amount of their loss, are unknown. 
By the vanity of the Norman historians, the English 
army has been exaggerated beyond the limits of credi- 
bility : by that of the native writers it has been re- 
duced to a handful of resolute warriors: but both 
agree, that with Harold and his brothers perished all 
the nobility of the south of England ; a loss which 
could not be repaired. 

The king's mother begged as a boon the dead body 
of her son, and offered as a ransom its weight in gold ; 
but the resentment of William had rendered him cal- 
lous to pity, and insensible to all interested considera- 
tions. He ordered the corpse of the fallen monarch 
to be buried on the beach ; adding, with a sneer, ' He 
guarded the coast while he was alive ; let him continue 
to guard it after death. 5 By stealth, however, or by 
purchase, the royal remains were removed from this 
unhallowed site, and deposited in the church at Wal- 
tham, which Harold had founded before he ascended 
the throne. 



EXERCISES. 121 

EXERCISE VIII. 

DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. Robertson. 

On Friday, the third day of August, in the year one 
thousand four hundred and ninety-two, Columbus set 
sail from Palos, in Spain, a little before sunrise, in 
presence of a vast crowd of spectators, who sent up 
their supplications to Heaven for the prosperous issue 
of the voyage ; which they wished, rather than ex- 
pected. 

His squadron, if it merit that name, consisted of no 
more than three small vessels — the Santa Maria, the 
Pinta, and the Nigna — having on board ninety men, 
mostly sailors, together with a few adventurers, who 
followed the fortune of Columbus, and some gentlemen 
of the Spanish court, whom the queen appointed to 
accompany him. 

He steered directly for the Canary Islands ; from 
which, after refitting his ships, and supplying himself 
with fresh provisions, he took his departure on the 
sixth day of September. Here the voyage of dis- 
covery may properly be said to have begun ; for Co- 
lumbus, holding his course due west, left immediately 
the usual track of navigation, and stretched into un- 
frequented and unknown seas. 

The first day, as it was very calm, he made but 
little way ; but, on the second, he lost sight of the 
Canaries ; and many of the sailors, already dejected 
and dismayed, when they contemplated the boldness 
of the undertaking, began to beat their breasts, and to 
11* 



122 EXERCISES. 

shed tears, as if they were never more to behold land. 
Columbus comforted them with assurances of success, 
and the prospect of vast wealth in those opulent re- 
gions, whither he was conducting them. 

This early discovery of the spirit of his followers 
taught Columbus that he must prepare to struggle, not 
only with the unavoidable difficulties which might be 
expected from the nature of his undertaking, but with 
such as were likely to arise from the ignorance and 
timidity of the people under his command ; and he 
perceived, that the art of governing the minds of men 
would be no less requisite for accomplishing the dis- 
coveries which he had in view, than naval skill and 
an enterprizing courage. 

Happily for himself, and for the country by which he 
was employed, he joined to the ardent temper and in- 
ventive genius of a projector, virtues of another species, 
which are rarely united with them. He possessed a 
thorough knowledge of mankind, an insinuating ad- 
dress, a patient perseverance in executing -any plan, 
the perfect government of his own passions, and the 
talent of acquiring the direction of those of other men. 

All these qualities, which formed him for command, 
were accompanied with that superior knowledge of his 
profession which begets confidence in times of diffi- 
culty and danger. To unskilful Spanish sailors, ac- 
customed only to coasting voyages in the Mediterra- 
nean, the maritime science of Columbus, the fruit of 
thirty years' experience, appeared immense. As soon 
as they put to sea, he regulated every thing by his 
sole authority ; he superintended the execution of 



EXERCISES. 123 

every order, and, allowing himself only a few hours for 
sleep, he was, at all other times, upon deck. 

As his course lay through seas which had not been 
visited before, the sounding line, or instruments for 
observation, were continually in his hands. He at- 
tended to the motion of the tides and currents, watched 
the flight of birds, the appearance of fishes, of sea- 
weeds, and of every thing that floated on the waves, 
and accurately noted every occurrence in a journal 
that he kept. 

By the fourteenth day of September, the fleet was 
above two hundred leagues to the west of the Canary 
Isles, a greater distance from land than any Spaniard 
had ever been before that time. Here the sailors 
were struck with an appearance no less astonishing 
than new. They observed that the magnetic needle, 
in their compasses, did not point exactly to the north 
star, but varied towards the west. 

This appearance, which is now familiar, filled the 
companions of Columbus with terror. They were in 
an ocean boundless and unknown : nature itself seemed 
to be altered, and the only guide which they had left, 
was about to fail them. Columbus, with no less quick- 
ness than ingenuity, invented a reason for this appear- 
ance, which, though it did not satisfy himself, seemed 
so plausible to them, that it dispelled their fears, and 
silenced their murmurs. 

On the first of October, they were about seven hun- 
dred and seventy leagues west of the Canaries. They 
had now been above three weeks at sea, all their prog- 
nostics of discovery, drawn from the flight of birds, 
and other circumstances, had proved fallacious, and 



124 EXERCISES. 

their prospect of success seemed now to be as distant 
as ever. The spirit of discontent and of mutiny began 
to manifest itself among the sailors, and, by degrees, 
the contagion spread from ship to ship. 

All agreed, that Columbus should be compelled, by 
force, to return, while their crazy vessels were yet in 
a condition to keep the sea ; and some even proposed 
to throw him overboard, as the most expeditious 
method of getting rid of his remonstrances, and of 
securing a seasonable return to their native land. 

Columbus was fully sensible of his perilous situation. 
He perceived that it would be of no avail to have re- 
course to any of his former expedients to lead on the 
hopes of his companions, and that it was impossible to 
rekindle any zeal for the success of the expedition, 
among men, in whose breasts fear had extinguished 
every generous sentiment. 

He found it necessary to soothe passions, which he 
could no longer command, and to give way to a torrent 
too impetuous to be checked. He accordingly prom- 
ised his men, that he would comply with their request, 
provided they would accompany him, and obey his 
commands, for three days longer ; and if, during that 
time, land were not discovered, he would then abandon 
the enterprize, and direct his course towards Spain. 

Enraged as the sailors were, and impatient as they 
were of returning to their native country, this propo- 
sition did not appear to them unreasonable : nor did 
Columbus hazard much in confining himself to a time 
so short ; for the presages of discovering land had be- 
come so numerous and promising, that he deemed them 
infallible. 



EXERCISES. 125 

For some days, the sounding line had reached the 
bottom; and ihe soil, which it brought up, indicated 
land to be at no great distance. The flocks of birds 
increased, and were composed not only of sea-fowl, 
but of such land-birds as could not be supposed to fly 
far from the shore. 

The crew of the Pinta observed a cane floating, 
which seemed to have been new T ly cut, and likewise a 
piece of timber, artificially carved. The sailors aboard 
the Nigna took up the branch of a tree, with red ber- 
ries, perfectly fresh. The clouds around the setting 
sun assumed a new appearance ; the air was more 
mild and warm ; and, during night, the wind became 
unequal and variable. 

From all these symptoms, Columbus was so confi- 
dent of being near land, that, on the evening of the 
eleventh of October, after public prayers for success, 
he ordered the sails to be furled, and strict watch to 
be kept, lest the ship should be driven ashore in the 
night. During this interval of suspense and expecta- 
tion, no man shut his eyes; all kept upon deck, gazing 
intently towards that quarter where they expected to 
discover the land, which had been so long the object 
of their wishes. 

About two hours before midnight, Columbus, stand- 
ing on the forecastle, observed a light at a distance, 
and privately pointed it out to two of his people. All 
three saw it in motion, as if it were carried from place 
to place. A little after midnight, the joyful sound of 
Land ! land ! was heard from the Pinta. But, hav- 
ing been so often deceived by fallacious appearances, 
they had now become slow of belief, and waited, in 



126 EXERCISES. 

all the anguish of uncertainty and impatience, for the 
return of day. 

As soon as morning dawned, their doubts and fears 
were dispelled. They beheld an island about two 
leagues to the north, whose flat and verdant fields, well 
stored with wood, and watered with many rivulets, 
presented to them the aspect of a delightful country. 
The crew of the Pinta instantly began a hymn of 
thanksgiving to God, and were joined, by those of the 
other ships, with tears of joy, and transports of con- 
gratulation. 

This office of gratitude to Heaven was followed by 
an act of justice to their commander. They threw 
themselves at the feet of Columbus, with feelings of 
self-condemnation mingled with reverence. They 
implored him to pardon their ignorance, incredulity, 
and insolence, which had created him so much unne- 
cessary disquiet, and had so often obstructed the prose- 
cution of his well-concerted plan ; and passing, in the 
warmth of their admiration, from one extreme to 
another, they now pronounced the man, whom they 
had so lately reviled and threatened, to be a person 
inspired by Heaven with sagacity and fortitude more 
than human, in order to accomplish a design so far be- 
yond the ideas and conceptions of all former ages. 

As soon as the sun arose, all the boats were manned 
and armed. They rowed towards the island with their 
colors displayed, warlike music, and other martial 
pomp ; and, as they approached the coast, they saw 
it covered with a multitude of people, whom the nov- 
elty of the spectacle had drawn together, and whose 
attitudes and gestures expressed wonder and astonish- 



EXERCISES. 127 

ment at the strange objects which presented themselves 
to their view. 

Columbus was the first European who set foot in 
the New World, which he had discovered. He land- 
ed in a rich dress, and with a naked sword in his 
hand. His men followed, and kneeling down, they 
all kissed the ground which they had long desired to 
see. 

They next erected a crucifix, and, prostrating them- 
selves before it, returned thanks to God for conducting 
their voyage to such a happy issue. They then took 
solemn possession of the country for the crown of 
Castile and Leon, with all the formalities with which 
the Portuguese were accustomed to take possession 
of their new discoveries. 

The Spaniards, while thus employed, were sur- 
rounded by many of the natives, who gazed, in silent 
admiration, upon actions which they could not com- 
prehend, and of which they did not foresee the con- 
sequences. The dress of the Spaniards, the white- 
ness of their skins, their beards, their arms, appeared 
strange and surprising. 

The vast machines, in which they had traversed the 
ocean, that seemed to move upon the water with wings, 
and uttered a dreadful sound, resembling thunder, ac- 
companied with lightning and smoke, struck them with 
such terror, that they began to respect their new guests 
as a superior order of beings, and concluded that they 
were children of the sun, who had descended to visit 
the earth. 

The Europeans were hardly less amazed at the 
scene now before them. Every herb, and shrub, and 



128 EXERCISES. 

tree, was different from those which flourished in 
Europe. The soil seemed to be rich, but bore few 
marks of cultivation. The climate, even to Spaniards, 
felt warm, though extremely delightful. 

The inhabitants were entirely naked : their black 
hair, long and uncurled, floated upon their shoulders, 
or was bound in tresses around their heads ; they 
had no beards ; their complexion was of a dusky 
copper color ; their features singular, rather than dis- 
agreeable ; their aspect gentle and timid. 

Though not tall, they were well shaped and active. 
Their faces, and other parts of their body, were fan- 
tastically painted with glaring colors. They were 
shy at first, through fear, but soon became familiar 
with the Spaniards, and, with transports of joy, 
received from them hawks' bells, glass beads, and 
other baubles ; in return for which they gave such 
provisions as they had, and some cotton yarn, the only 
commodity of value which they could produce. 

Towards evening, Columbus returned to his ships, 
accompanied by many of the islanders in their boats, 
which they called canoes ; and, though rudely formed 
out of the trunk of a single tree, they rowed them 
with surprising dexterity. Thus, in the first interview 
between the inhabitants of the Old World and those 
of the New, every thing was conducted amicably, and 
to their mutual satisfaction. The former, enlightened 
and ambitious, formed already vast ideas with respect 
to the advantages which they might derive from those 
regions that began to open to their view. The latter, 
simple and undiscerning, had no foresight of the ca- 
lamities and desolation, which were now approaching 
their country. 



EXERCISES. 129 

EXERCISE IX. 

CHARACTER OF CROMWELL. 

In the general spirit and character of his administra- 
tion, we think Cromwell far superior to Napoleon. 
c In civil government, 5 says a recent historian,* 'there 
can be no adequate parallel between one who had 
sucked only the dregs of a besotted fanaticism, and 
one to whom the stores of reason and philosophy were 
open.' These expressions, it seems to us, convey 
the highest eulogium on our great countryman. Rea- 
son and philosophy did not teach the conqueror of 
Europe to command his passions, or to pursue, as a 
first object, the happiness of his people. They did 
not prevent him from risking his fame and his power 
in a frantic contest against the principles of human 
nature and the laws of the physical world ; against the 
rage of the winter and the liberty of the sea. They 
did not exempt him from the influence of that most 
pernicious of superstitions, a presumptuous fatalism. 
They did not preserve him from the inebriation of 
prosperity, or restrain him from indecent querulous- 
ness and violence in adversity. 

On the other hand, the fanaticism of Cromwell never 
urged him on impracticable undertakings, or confused 
his perception of the public good. Inferior to Bona- 
parte in invention, he was far superior to him in wis- 
dom. The French Emperor is among conquerors 

* Mr. Hallam. 
12 



130 EXERCISES. 

what Voltaire is among writers, a miraculous child. 
His splendid genius was frequently clouded by fits of 
humor as absurdly perverse as those of the pet of the 
nursery, who quarrels with his food, and dashes his 
playthings to pieces. Cromwell was emphatically a 
man. He possessed, in an eminent degree, that mas- 
culine and full-grown robustness of mind, that equally 
diffused intellectual health, which, if our national par- 
tiality does not mislead us, has peculiarly character- 
ized the great men of England. Never was any ruler 
so conspicuously born for sovereignty. The cup which 
has intoxicated almost all others, sobered him. His 
spirit, restless from its buoyancy in a lower sphere, 
reposed in majestic placidity, as soon as it had reach- 
ed the level congenial to it. He had nothing in com- 
mon with that large class of men who distinguish them- 
selves in lower posts, and whose incapacity becomes 
obvious as soon as the public voice summons them to 
take the lead. Rapidly as his fortunes grew, his mind 
expanded more rapidly still. Insignificant as a pri- 
vate citizen, he was a great general ; he was a still 
greater prince. 

The manner of Napoleon was a theatrical com- 
pound, in which the coarseness of a revolutionary 
guard-room was blended with the ceremony of the 
old court of Versailles. Cromwell, by the confession 
even of his enemies, exhibited in his demeanor the 
simple and natural nobleness of a man neither ashamed 
of his origin, nor vain of his elevation; of a man who 
had found his proper place in society, and who felt 
secure that he was competent to fill it. Easy, even 
to familiarity, where his own dignity was concerned, 



EXERCISES. 131 

he was punctilious only for his country. His own 
character he left to take care of itself ; he left it to be 
defended by his victories in war, and his reforms in 
peace. But he was a jealous and implacable guardian 
of the public honor. He suffered a crazy Quaker to 
insult him in the midst of Whitehall, and revenged 
himself only by liberating him and giving him a dinner. 
But he was prepared to risk the chances of war to 
avenge the blood of a private Englishman. 

No sovereign ever carried to the throne so large a 
portion of the best qualities of the middling orders — 
so strong a sympathy with the feelings and interests 
of his people. He was sometimes driven to arbitrary 
measures, but he had a high, stout, honest, English 
heart. Hence it was that he loved to surround his 
throne with such men as Hale and Blake. Hence it 
was that he allowed so large a share of political liberty 
to his subjects, and that, even when an opposition 
dangerous to his power and to his person, almost 
compelled him to govern by the sword, he was still 
anxious to leave a germ from which, at a more favor- 
able season, free institutions might spring. 

We firmly believe, that if his first Parliament had 
not commenced its debates by disputing his title, his 
government would have been as mild at home as it 
was energetic and able abroad. He was a soldier ; — 
he had risen by war. Had his ambition been of an 
impure or selfish kind, it would have been easy for 
him to plunge his country into continental hostilities 
on a large scale, and to dazzle the restless factions 
which he ruled by the splendor of his victories. Some 
of his enemies have sneeringly remarked, that in the 



132 



EXERCISES. 



successes obtained under his administration, he had no 
personal share ; as if a man, who had raised himself 
from obscurity to empire solely by his military talents, 
could have any unworthy reason for shrinking from 
military enterprise. This reproach is his highest 
glory. In the success of the English navy he could 
have no selfish interest. Its triumphs added nothing 
to his fame ; its increase added nothing to his means 
of overawing his enemies ; its great leader was not his 
friend. Yet he took a peculiar pleasure in encour- 
aging that noble service, which, of all the instruments 
employed by an English government, is the most im- 
potent for mischief, and the most powerful for good. 

His administration was glorious, but with no vulgar 
glory. It was not one of those periods of overstrained 
and convulsive exertion, which necessarily produce 
debility and languor. Its energy was natural, health- 
ful, temperate. He placed England at the head of 
the Protestant interest, and in the first rank of Chris- 
tian powers. He taught every nation to value her 
friendship, and to dread her enmity. But he did not 
squander her resources in a vain attempt to invest her 
with that supremacy which no power, in the modern 
system of Europe, can safely affect, or can long 
retain. 

This noble and sober wisdom had its reward. If 
he did not carry the banners of the Commonwealth in 
triumph to distant capitals ; if he did not adorn White- 
hall with the spoils of the Stadthouse and the Louvre; 
if he did not portion out Flanders and Germany into 
principalities for his kinsmen and his generals ; he did 
not, on the other hand, see his country overrun by 



EXERCISES. 133 

the armies of nations, which his ambition had pro- 
voked. He did not drag out the last years of his life 
an exile and a prisoner, in an unhealthy climate and 
under an ungenerous gaoler ; raging with the impotent 
desire of vengeance, and brooding over visions of de- 
parted glory. He went down to his grave in the ful- 
ness of power and fame ; and left to his son an authority, 
which any man of ordinary firmness and prudence 
would have retained. 



EXERCISE X. 

CONCLUSION OF DR. RUSH'S CHAPTER ON THE MODE 
OF INSTRUCTION IN ELOCUTION. 

The various uses of the elements, enumerated 
throughout this essay, contribute largely to the force 
and elegance of utterance. They must be employed. 
The question is, whether they should be learned from 
an assemblage, in current discourse, or from a separate 
and iterated practice on their individual forms. 

I need not propose arguments in favor of the analytic 
and elementary system to those, who, from the habit 
of acquiring the sciences, have formed for themselves 
economical and effective plans of education. It is well 
for all others to take opinion in this matter, for a while 
at least, upon faith ; and to know that the only reason 
why elocutionists have never employed this mode, is 
because they have been ignorant of the subdivided func- 
tions of speech. There are too many examples in 
science, of the useful application of analysis to the pur- 



12 



* 



134 EXERCISES. 

pose of rudimental instruction, to suppose that the same 
means would not have been adopted in elocution, if 
they had been within reach of the master. 

I look for no more, from a well-devised practical 
system of elocution, than we are every day receiving 
from established arts. All men speak and reason ; for 
these acts, as far as we know, are as natural as passion : 
but the arts of grammar, rhetoric and logic, teach us to 
do these things in the best manner. In short, doing 
them in the best manner, is signified by the name of 
these arts. When the voice is prepared by elementary 
trial, the feeling which prompts the expression will find 
the pliant and strengthened organs ready to furnish a 
satisfactory and elegant accomplishment of its designs. 

If the high accomplishments of elocution are an ob- 
ject of ambition, the system of instruction offered in 
t his essay , will furnish the easiest and shortest means 
for success. After all that has been said, the best 
contrived scheme will be of little avail, without the 
utmost zeal and perseverance on the part of the learner. 
It is an impressive saying, by an elegant genius of the 
Augustan age in Rome, and he drew the maxim from 
his own life and fame, that 'nothing is given to mortals 
without indefatigable labor :' by which he meant to in- 
sinuate that those works which, from their rare and 
surpassing merits, are supposed to proceed from a pe- 
culiar endowment by Heaven, are, in reality, but the 
product of hard and unremitting industry. s 

It is pitiable to witness the wishes and conceits of 
ambition, without the accompaniment of its requisite 
exertions. The art of reading well, is one of those 
accomplishments which all wish to possess, many think 
they have already, and some set about to acquire. 



EXERCISES. 135 

These, after a few lessons with an elocutionist, and no 
toil of their own, are disappointed at not becoming 
themselves at once masters of the art, and abandon the 
study for the purpose of entering on some new subject 
of trial and failure. Such cases of infirmity are partly 
the consequence of the inconstancy of human nature ; 
but they chiefly arise from defects in the usual course 
of instruction. 

Go to some, may I say all, of our colleges and 
universities, and observe how the art of speaking, is 
not taught there. See a boy of but fifteen years, sent 
upon a stage, pale and choking with apprehension, in 
an attempt to do that, without instruction, which he 
came purposely to learn ; and to furnish amusement to 
his class-mates, by a pardonable awkwardness, which 
should be punished in the person of his pretending and 
neglectful preceptors, with little less than scourging. 

Then visit a conservatorio of music — see the or- 
derly tasks, the masterly discipline, the unwearied su- 
perintendence, and the incessant toil to produce accom- 
plishment of voice; and afterwards do not be surprised 
that the pulpit, the senate, the bar, and the chair of 
medical professorship are filled with such abominable 
drawlers, mouthers, mumblers, clutterers, squeakers, 
chanters, and mongers in monotony; nor that the 
schools of singing are constantly sending abroad those 
great instances of vocal wonder, who sound along the 
high places of the world ; who are bidden to the halls 
of fashion and wealth ; who sometimes quell the pride 
of rank, by its momentary sensation of envy; and who 
draw forth the intelligent curiosity, and produce the 
crowning delight and approbation of the Prince and the 
Sage. 



136 EXERCISES. 

EXERCISE XL 

INDUSTRY NECESSARY TO THE ATTAINMENT OF 

eloquence. — Ware. 

The history of the world is full of testimony to prove 
how much depends upon industry ; not an eminent 
orator has lived, but is an example of it. Yet, in 
contradiction to all this, the almost universal feeling 
appears to be, that industry can effect nothing, that 
eminence is the result of accident, and that everyone 
must be content to remain just what he may happen 
to be. Thus multitudes, who come forward as teach- 
ers and guides, suffer themselves to be satisfied with 
the most indifferent attainments, and a miserable me- 
diocrity, without so much as inquiring how they may 
rise higher, much less making any attempt to rise. 

For any other art they would have served an ap- 
prenticeship, and would be ashamed to practise it in 
public before they had learned it. If any one would 
sing, he attends a master, and is drilled in the very 
elementary principles ; and only after the most labori- 
ous process, dares to exercise his voice in public. This 
he does, though he has scarce any thing to learn but 
the mechanical execution of what lies in sensible forms 
before the eye. But the extempore speaker, who is to 
invent as well as to utter, to carry on an operation of 
the mind as well as to produce sound, enters upon the 
work without preparatory disoipline, and then wonders 
that he fails ! 

If he were learning to play on the flute for public ex- 
hibition, what hours and days would he spend in giv- 



EXERCISES. 137 

ing facility to his fingers, and attaining the power of 
the sweetest and most expressive execution ! If he 
were devoting himself to the organ, what months and 
years would he labor, that he might know its compass, 
and be master of its keys, and be able to draw out, at 
will, all its various combinations of harmonious sound, 
and its full richness and delicacy of expression ! And 
yet, he will fancy that the grandest, the most various 
and most expressive of all instruments, which the in- 
finite Creator has fashioned by the union of an intel- 
lectual soul with the powei-s of speech, may be played 
upon without study or practice ; he comes to it a mere 
uninstructed tyro, and thinks to manage all its stops, 
and command the whole compass of its varied and 
comprehensive power ! He finds himself a bungler 
in the attempt, is mortified at his failure, and settles it 
in his mind forever, that the attempt is vain. 

Success in every art, whatever may be the natural 
talent, is always the reward of industry and pains. 
But the instances are many, of men of the finest nat- 
ural genius, whose beginning has promised much, but 
who have degenerated wretchedly as they advanced, 
because they trusted to their gifts, and made no efforts 
to improve. That there have never been other men 
of equal endowments with Demosthenes and Cicero, 
none would venture to suppose ; out who nave so 
devoted themselves to their art, or become equal in 
excellence ? If those great men had been content, 
like others, to continue as they began, and had never 
made their persevering efforts for improvement, what 
would their countries have benefited from their genius, 
or the world have known of their fame? They would 



138 EXERCISES. 

have been lost in the undistinguished crowd that sunk 
to oblivion around them. 

Of how many more will the same remark prove 
true ! What encouragement is thus given to the in- 
dustrious ! With such encouragement, how inexcu- 
sable is the negligence, which suffers the most inter- 
esting and important truths to seem heavy and dull, 
and fall ineffectual to the ground, through mere slug- 
gishness in their delivery ! How unworthy of one, 
who performs the high functions of a religious in- 
structor, upon whom depend, in a great measure, 
the religious knowledge and devotional sentiments, 
and final character of many fellow-beings — to imagine 
that he can worthily discharge this great concern, 
by occasionally talking for an hour, he knows not 
how, and in a manner which he has taken no pains 
to render correct, impressive, and attractive ; and 
which, simply through want of that command over 
himself which study would give, is immethodical, 
verbose, inaccurate, feeble, trifling. 

It has been said of the good preacher, that ' truths 
divine come mended from his tongue. 5 Alas ! they 
come ruined and worthless from such a man as this. 
They lose that holy energy, by which they are to 
convert the soul and purify man for heaven, and 
sink, in interest and efficacy, below the level of those 
principles, which govern the ordinary affairs of this 
lower world. 



EXERCISES. 139 

EXERCISE XII. 

on duelling — Eliphalet Nott* 

Life is the gift of God, and it never was bestowed 
to be sported with. To each, the Sovereign of the 
universe has marked out a sphere to move in, and as- 
signed a part to act. This part respects ourselves 
not only, but others also. Each lives for the benefit 
of all. 

As in the system of nature the sun shines, not to 
display its own brightness and answer its own con- 
venience, but to warm, enlighten and bless the world ; 
so in the system of animated beings, there is a de- 
pendence, a correspondence, and a relation, through 
an infinitely extended, dying and reviving universe — 
* in which no man liveth to himself, and no man dieth 
to himself. 5 Friend is related to friend ; the father to 
his family; the individual to community. To every 
member of which, having fixed his station and assign- 
ed his duty, the God of nature says, ' Keep this trust 
— defend this post.' For whom? For thy friends, 
thy family, thy country. And having received such 
a charge, and for such a purpose, to desert it is rash- 
ness and temerity. 

Since the opinions of men are as they are, do you 
ask, how you shall avoid the imputation of cowardice, 
if you do not fight when you are injured? Ask your 
family how you will avoid the imputation of cruelty: 
ask your conscience how you will avoid the imputa- 
tion of guilt: ask God how you will avoid his male- 



140 EXERCISES. 

diction, if you do? These ars previous questions. 
Let these first be answered, and it will be easy to 
reply to any which may follow them. If you only 
accept a challenge, when you believe, in your con- 
science, that duelling is wrong, you act the coward. 
The dastardly fear of the world governs you. Awed 
by its menaces, you conceal your sentiments, appear 
in disguise, and act in guilty conformity to principles 
not your own, and that too in the most solemn mo- 
ment, and when engaged in an act which exposes you 
to death. 

But if it be rashness to accept, how passing rash- 
ness is it^in a sinner, to give a challenge? Does it 
become him, whose life is measured out by crimes, to 
be extreme to mark, and punctilious to resent what- 
ever is amiss in others? Must the duellist, who, now r 
disdaining to forgive, so imperiously demands satis- 
faction to the uttermost — must this man himself, 
trembling at the recollection of his offences, present- 
ly appear a suppliant before the mercy-seat of God ? 
Imagine this — and the case is not imaginary — and you 
cannot conceive an instance of greater inconsistency, 
or of more presumptuous arrogance. Therefore, 
1 avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto 
wrath : for vengeance is mine, I will repay it, saith 
the Lord.' Do you ask, then, how you shall conduct 
towards your enemy, who hath lightly done you wrong ? 
If he be hungry, feed him ; if naked, clothe him ; if 
thirsty, give him drink. Such, had you preferred your 
question to Jesus Christ, is the answer he had given 
you. By observing which, you will usually subdue, 
and always act more honorably than your enemy. 



EXERCISES. 141 

EXERCISE XIII. 

THE RAISING OF LAZARUS. 

Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of 
Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha. 
(It was that Mary which anointed the Lord with oint- 
ment, and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother 
Lazarus was sick.) Therefore his sisters sent unto 
him, saying, Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is 
sick. 

When Jesus heard that, he said, This sickness is 
not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son 
of God might be glorified thereby. Now Jesus loved 
Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus. When he had 
heard, therefore, that he was sick, he abode two days 
still in the same place where he was. Then after 
that, saith he to his disciples, Let us go into Judea 
again. 

His disciples say unto him, Master, the Jews of 
late sought to stone thee ; and goest thou thither 
again? Jesus answered, Are there not twelve hours 
in the day? If any man walk in the day he stumbleth 
not, because he seeth the light of this world. But if 
a man walk in the night he stumbleth, because there is 
no light in him. These things said he : and after that 
he saith unto them, Our friend Lazarus sleepeth ; but 
I go that I may awake him out of sleep. 

Then said his disciples, Lord, if he sleep he shall 

do well. Howbeit, Jesus spake of his death : but they 

thought that he had spoken of taking of rest in sleep. 

Then said Jesus unto them plainly, Lazarus is dead. 

13 



142 EXERCISES. 

And I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to 
the intent ye may believe: nevertheless, let us go unto 
him. 

Then said Thomas, which is called Didymus, unto 
his fellow-disciples, Let us also go, that we may die 
with him. Then when Jesus came, he found that he 
had lain in the grave four days already. (Now Beth- 
any was nigh unto Jerusalem, about fifteen furlongs 
off.) And many of the Jews came to Martha and 
Mary, to comfort them concerning their brother. 

Then Martha, as soon as she heard that Jesus was 
coming, went and met him: but Mary sat still in the 
house. Then said Martha unto Jesus, Lord, if thou 
hadst been here my brother had not died. But I 
know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, 
God will give it thee. Jesus saith unto her, Thy 
brother shall rise again. Martha saith unto him, I 
know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at 
the last day. 

Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection and the 
life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, 
yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth 
in me shall never die. Believest thou this? She 
saith unto him, Yea, Lord, I believe that thou art the 
Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the 
world. And when she had so said she went her way, 
and called Mary her sister secretly, saying, the Mas- 
ter is come and calleth for thee. As soon as she 
heard that, she arose quickly, and came unto him. 

Now Jesus was not yet come into the town, but 
was in that place where Martha met him. The Jews 
then, which were with her in the house, and comforted 



EXERCISES. 143 

her, when they saw Mary that she arose up hastily, 
and went out, followed her, saying, She goeth unto 
the grave to weep there. Then when Mary was come 
where Jesus was, and saw him, she fell down at his 
feet, saying unto him, Lord, if thou hadst been here 
my brother had not died. 

When Jesus, therefore, saw her weeping, and the 
Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned 
in the spirit, and was troubled ; and said, Where 
have ye laid him? They say unto him, Lord, come 
and see. Jesus wept. Then said the Jews, Behold 
how he loved him! And some of them said, Could 
not this man, which opened the eyes of the blind, have 
caused that even this man should not have died? Jesus, 
therefore, again groaning in himself, cometh to the 
grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it. 

Jesus said, Take ye away the stone. Martha, the 
sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, Lord, by 
this time he stinketh ; for he hath been dead four days. 
Jesus saith unto her, Said I not unto thee, that, if thou 
wouldst believe, thou shouldst see the glory of God? 
Then they took away the stone from the place where 
the dead was laid. And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and 
said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me ; and 
I knew that thou nearest me always ; but because of the 
people which stand by I said it, that they may believe 
that thou hast sent me. 

And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a 
loud voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was 
dead came forth, bound hand and foot with grave 
clothes ; and his face was bound about with a napkin. 



144 EXERCISES. 

Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go. 
Then many of the Jews which came to Mary, and had 
seen the things which Jesus did, believed on him. 



EXERCISE XIV. 

DEATH OF ELI. 

And the word of Samuel came to all Israel. Now 
Israel went out against the Philistines to battle, and 
pitched beside Eben-ezer ; and the Philistines pitched 
in Aphek. And the Philistines put themselves in array 
against Israel ; and, when they joined battle, Israel 
was smitten before the Philistines; and they slew of 
the army in the field about four thousand men. 

And when the people were come into the camp, 
the elders of Israel said, Wherefore hath the Lord 
smitten us to-day before the Philistines ? Let us fetch 
the ark of the covenant of the Lord out of Shiloh unto 
us, that, when it cometh among us, it may save us out 
of the hand of our enemies. So the people sent to 
Shiloh, that they might bring from thence the ark of 
the covenant of the Lord of hosts, which dvvelleth 
between the cherubim : and the two sons of Eli, 
Hophni and Phinehas, were there, with the ark of the 
covenant of God. 

And when the ark of the covenant of the Lord came 
into the camp, all Israel shouted with a great shout, 
so that the earth rang again. And when the Philistines 
heard the noise of the shout, they said, What mean- 
eth the noise of this great shout in the camp of the He- 



EXERCISES, 145 

brews? And they understood that the ark of the Lord 
was come into the camp. 

And the Philistines were afraid ; for they said, God 
is come into the camp. And they said, Woe unto us ! 
for there hath not been such a thing heretofore. Woe 
unto us ! who shall deliver us out of the hand of these 
mighty Gods ? these are the Gods that smote the Egyp- 
tians with all the plagues in the wilderness. Be strong, 
and quit yourselves like men, O ye Philistines, that ye 
be not servants unto the Hebrews, as they have been 
to you : quit yourselves like men, and fight. 

And the Philistines fought, and Israel was smitten, 
and they fled every man into his tent ; and there was 
a very great slaughter ; for there fell of Israel thirty 
thousand footmen. And the ark of God was taken ; 
and the two sons of Eli, Hophni and Phinehas, were 
slain. And there ran a man of Benjamin out of the 
army, and came to Shiloh the same day, with his 
clothes rent, and with earth upon his head. 

And when he came, lo, Eli sat upon a seat by the 
way-side, watching; for his heart trembled for the ark 
of God. And when the man came into the city and 
told it, all the city cried out. And when Eli heard 
the noise of the crying, he said, What meaneth the 
noise of this tumult ? And the man came in hastily, and 
told Eli. Now Eli was ninety and eight years old ; 
and his eyes were dim, that he could not see. 

And the man said unto Eli, I am he that came out 
of the army, and I fled to-day out of the army. And 
he said, What is there done, my son ? And the 
messenger answered and said, Israel is fled before the 
Philistines, and there hath been also a great slaughter 
13* 



146 EXERCISES. 

among the people; and thy two sons also, Hophni and 
Phinheas are dead ; and the ark of God is taken. And 
it came to pass, when he made mention of the ark of 
God, that he fell from off the seat backward, by the 
side of the gate, and his neck brake, and he died : for 
he was an old man, and heavy. And had judged 
Israel forty years. 



EXERCISE XV. 

EXTRACT FROM ERSKINe's SPEECH ON PAINE's AGE 
OF REASON. 

But it seems this is an age of reason, and the time 
and the person are at last arrived, that are to dissipate 
the errors that have overspread the past generations of 
ignorance ! The believers in Christianity are many, 
but it belongs to the few that are wise to correct their 
credulity! Belief is an act of reason ; and superior 
reason may therefore dictate to the weak. In running 
the mind along the numerous list of sincere and devout 
Christians, I cannot help lamenting that Newton had 
not lived to this day, to have had his shallowness filled 
up with this new flood of light. But the subject is too 
awful for irony. I will speak plainly and directly. 
Newton was a Christian ! Newton, whose mind burst 
forth from the fetters cast by nature upon our finite 
conception : Newton, whose science was truth, and 
the foundation of whose knowledge of it was philosophy. 
Not those visionary and arrogant assumptions which too 
often usurp its name, but, philosophy resting upon the 



EXERCISES, 147 

basis of mathematics, which, like figures, cannot lie. 
Newton, who carried the line and rule to the utmost 
barriers of creation, and explored the principles by 
which, no doubt, all created matter is held together 
and exists. 

But this extraordinary man, in the mighty reach of 
his mind, overlooked, perhaps, the errors which a mi- 
nuter investigation of the created things on this earth 
might have taught him, of the essence of his Creator. 
What shall then be said of the great Mr. Boyle, who 
looked into the organic structure of all matter, even to 
the brute inanimate substances which the foot treads 
on. Such a man may be supposed to have been 
equally qualified with Mr. Paine, to ■ look through 
nature up to nature's God.' Yet I 1 *© result of all his 
contemplation was the most comitmed and devout 
belief in all which the other holds in contempt, as 
despicable and drivelling superstition. But this error 
might, perhaps, arise from a want of due attention to 
the foundations of human judgment, and the structure 
of that understanding which God has given us for the 
investigation of truth. 

Let that question be answered by Mr. Locke, who 
was, to the highest pitch of devotion and adoration, a 
Christian. Mr. Locke, whose office was to detect the 
errors of thinking, by going up to the fountain of 
thought, and to direct into the proper track of reason- 
ing the devious mind of man, by showing him its whole 
process, from the first perceptions of sense, to the last 
conclusions of ratiocination ; putting a rein besides up- 
on false opinion, by practical rules for the conduct of 
human judgment. 



143 EXERCISES. 

But these men were only deep thinkers, and lived in 
their closets, unaccustomed to the traffic of the world, 
and to the laws which partially regulate mankind. 
Gentlemen, in the place were you now sit to administer 
the justice of this great country, above a century ago, 
the never to be forgotten Sir Matthew Hale presided, 
whose faith in Christianity is an exalted commentary up- 
on its truth and reason, and whose life was a glorious 
example of its fruits in man ; administering human jus- 
tice with a wisdom and purity drawn from the pure 
fountain of the Christian dispensation, which has been, 
and will be, in all ages, a subject of the highest 
reverence and admiration. But it is said, by Mr. Paine, 
that the Christian fable is but the tale of the more 
ancient superstitions of the world, and may be easily 
detected by a proper understanding of the mythologies 
of the heathens. 

Did Milton understand those mythologies ? Was 
he less versed than Mr. Paine in the superstitions of 
the world ? No: they w T ere the subject of his immortal 
song; and, though shut out from all recurrence to them, 
he poured them forth from the stores of a memory rich 
with all that man ever knew, and laid them in their 
order, as the illustration of that real and exalted faith, 
the unquestionable source of that fervid genius, which 
cast a sort of shade upon all the other works of man. 
Thus you find all that is great, or wise, or splendid, or 
illustrious, amongst created beings, all the minds gifted 
beyond ordinary nature, if not inspired by their 
Universal Author for the advancement and dignity of 
the world, though divided by distant ages, and by the 
clashing opinions distinguishing them from one another, 



EXERCISES. 149 

yet joining, as it were, in one sublime chorus, to 
celebrate the truths of Christianity, and laying upon 
its holy altars the never-fading offerings of their im- 
mortal wisdom. 



EXECISE XVI. 

EXTRACT FROM A SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN 
ADAMS, IN SUPPORT OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE. 

-—Daniel Webster. 

Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give 
my hand, and my heart, to this vote. It is true, indeed, 
that in the beginning, we aimed not at Independence. 
But there's a Divinity which shapes our ends. The 
injustice of England has driven us to arms ; and, blinded 
to her own interest for our good, she has obstinately 
persisted, till Independence is now within our grasp. 
We have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. Why 
jhen should we defer the Declaration ? Is any man 
so weak as now to hope for a reconciliation with 
England ? Do we mean to submit to the measures of 
Parliament, Boston port-bill and all ? I know we do 
not mean to submit. We never shall submit. 

The war, then, must go on. We must fight it 
through. And if the war must go on, why put off 
longer the Declaration of Independence? That measure 
will strengthen us. It will give us character abroad. 
The nations will then treat with us, which they never 
can do while we acknowledge ourselves subjects, in 
arms against our sovereign. Nay, I maintain that 



150 EXERCISES. 

England herself, will sooner treat for peace with us on 
the footing of Independence, than consent, by repealing 
her acts, to acknowledge that her whole conduct 
towards us has been a course of injustice and 
oppression. 

Sir, the Declaration will inspire the people \yith in- 
creased courage. Instead of a long and bloody war, 
for restoration of privileges, for redress of grievances, 
for chartered immunities held under a British king, — 
set before them the glorious object of entire Indepen- 
dence, and it will breathe into them anew the breath 
of life. Read this Declaration at the head of the army : 
every sword will be drawn from its scabbard, and the 
solemn vow uttered to maintain it, or to perish on 
the bed of honor. Publish it from the pulpit ; religion 
will approve it, and the love of religious liberty will 
cling round it, resolved to stand with it, or fall with it. 
Send it to the public halls ; proclaim it there ; let 
them hear it, who heard the first roar of the enemy's 
cannon : let them see it, who saw their brothers and 
their sons fall on the field of Bunker Hill, and in the 
streets of Lexington and Concord, — and the very walls 
will cry out in its support. 

Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My 
judgment approves this measure, and my whole heart 
is in it. All that I have, and all that I am, and all that 
I hope, in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon 
it ; and I leave ofFas I begun, that, live or die, survive 
or perish, I am for the Declaration. It is my living 
sentiment, and, by the blessing of God it shall be my 
dying sentiment ; — Independence now ; and indepen- 
dence FOREVER. 



EXERCISES. 151 

EXERCISE XVII. 

EXTRACT FROM MR. WEBSTER'S SPEECH ON THE 
GREEK REVOLUTION. 

Sir — It may, perhaps, be asked, what can we do ? 
Are we to go to war? Are we to interfere in the Greek 
cause, or any other European cause? Are we to en- 
danger our pacific relations ? — No; certainly not. 
What, then, the question recurs, remains for us ? If 
we will not endanger our own peace ; if we will nei- 
ther furnish armies, nor navies, to the cause which we 
think the just one, what is there within our power? 

Sir, this reasoning mistakes the age. The time has 
been, indeed, when fleets, and armies, and subsidies, 
were the principal reliances, even in the best cause. 
But, happily for mankind, there has come a great 
change in this respect. Moral causes come into con- 
sideration, in proportion as the progress of knowledge 
is advanced ; and the public opinion of the civilized 
world is rapidly gaining an ascendancy over mere bru- 
tal force. It is already able to oppose the most for- 
midable obstruction to the progress of injustice and 
oppression ; and, as it grows more intelligent and 
more intense, it will be more and more formidable. 
It may be silenced by military power, but it cannot 
be conquered. Is is elastic, irrepressible, and invul- 
nerable to the weapons of ordinary warfare. It is that 
impassable, unextinguishable enemy of mere violence 
and arbitrary rule, which, like Milton's angels, 

* Vital in every part, 

Cannot, but by annihilating, die.' 



152 EXERCISES. 

Until this be propitiated or satisfied, it is in vain for 
power to talk either of triumphs, or of repose. No 
matter what fields are desolated, what fortresses sur- 
rendered, what armies subdued > or what provinces 
overrun. In the history of the year that has passed 
by us, and in the instance of unhappy Spain, we have 
seen the vanity of all triumphs, in a cause which vio- 
lates the general sense of justice of the civilized world. 
It is nothing, that the troops of France have passed 
from the Pyrenees to Cadiz ; it is nothing that an un- 
happy and prostrate nation has fallen before them ; it 
is nothing, that arrests, and confiscation, and execu- 
tion sweep away the little remnant of national resist- 
ance. 

There is an enemy that still exists to check the 
glory of these triumphs. It follows the conqueror 
back to the very scene of his ovations ;* it calls upon 
him to take notice that Europe, though silent, is yet 
indignant. It shows him that the sceptre of his victory 
is a barren sceptre ; that it shall confer neither joy 
nor honor, but shall moulder to dry ashes in his grasp. 
In the midst of his exultation, it pierces his ear with 
the cry of injured justice, it denounces against him the 
indignation of an enlightened and civilized age ; it 
turns to bitterness the cup of his rejoicing, and wounds 
him with the sting which belongs to the consciousness 
of having outraged the opinion of mankind. 

* Ovation, a lesser triumph among the Romans. 



EXERCISES. 153 

EXERCISE XVIII. 

SPEECH OF MR. PLUNKET, ON THE COMPETENCY OF 

THE IRISH PARLIAMENT TO PASS THE MEASURE 

OF UNION BETWEEN IRELAND AND ENGLAND. 

Sir — I, in the most express terms, deny the eompe- 
tency of parliament to abolish the legislature of Ire- 
land. I warn you, do not dare to lay your hand on 
the constitution — I tell you, that if, circumstanced as 
you are, you pass an act which surrenders the gov- 
ernment of Ireland to the English parliament, it will 
be a nullity, and that no man in Ireland will be bound 
to obey it. I make the assertion deliberately — I re- 
peat it, and I call on any man who hears me, to take 
down my words ; — you have not been elected for this 
purpose — you are appointed to make laivs, and not 
legislatures — you are appointed to act under the con- 
stitution, not to alter it — you are appointed to exercise 
the functions of legislators, and not to transfer them — 
and if you do so, your act is a dissolution of the 
government — you resolve society into its original 
elements, and no man in the land is bound to obey 
you. 

Sir, I state doctrines which are not merely founded 
in the immutable laws of justice and of truth. I state 
not merely the opinions of the ablest men who have 
written on the science of government; but I state the 
practice of our constitution, as settled at the era of the 
revolution, and I state the doctrine under which the 
house of Hanover derives its title to the throne. Has 
14 



154 EXERCISES. 

the king a right to transfer his crown ? Is he compe- 
tent to annex it to the crown of Spain, or any other 
country ? No — but he may abdicate it ; and every 
man who knows the constitution knows the conse- 
quence — the right reverts to the next in succession — if 
they all abdicate, it reverts to the people. The man 
who questions this doctrine, in the same breath, must 
arraign the sovereign on the throne as an usurper. 
Are you competent to transfer your legislative rights 
to the French council of five hundred ? Are you 
competent to transfer them to the British parliament ? 
I answer, No. 

When you transfer you abdicate, and the great 
original trust results to the people from whom it issued. 
Yourselves you may extinguish., but parliament you 
cannot extinguish — it is enthroned in the hearts of the 
people — it is enshrined in the sanctuary of the consti- 
tution — it is immortal as the island which it protects. 
As well might the frantic suicide hope that the act 
which destroys his miserable body should extinguish 
his eternal soul. Again, I therefore warn you, do not 
dare to lay your hands on the constitution ; it is above 
your power. Sir, I do not say that the parliament and 
the people, by mutual consent and co-operation, may 
not change the form of the constitution. Whenever 
such a case arises it must be decided on its own merits 
— but that is not this case. If government considers 
this a season peculiarly fitted for experiments on the 
constitution, they may call on the people. I ask you, 
are you ready to do so? Are you ready to abide the 
event of such an appeal ? What is it you must, in that 



EXERCISES. 155 

event, submit to the people ? Not this particular pro- 
ject } for if you dissolve the present form of govern- 
ment, they become free to choose any other — you 
fling them to the fury of the tempest — you must call 
on them to unhouse themselves of the established con- 
stitution, and to fashion to themselves another. I ask 
again, is this the time for an experiment of that 
nature ? 

Thank God, the people have manifested no such 
wish — -so far as they have spoken, their voice is deci- 
dedly against this daring innovation. You know that 
no voice has been uttered in its favor, and you cannot 
be infatuated enough to take confidence from the si- 
lence which prevails in some parts of the kingdom ; if 
you know how to appreciate that silence it is more 
formidable than the most clamorous opposition — -you 
may be rived and shivered by the lightning before you 
hear the peal of the thunder ! But, sir, we are told 
we should discuss this question with calmness and 
composure. I am called on to surrender my birth- 
right and my honor, and I am told I should be calm 5 
composed. 

National pride! Independence of our country ! 
These, we are told by the minister, are only vulgar 
topics, fitted for the meridian of the mob, but unworthy 
to be mentioned in such an enlightened assembly as 
this \ they are trinkets and gewgaws fit to catch the 
fancy of childish and unthinking people like you, sir, 
or like your predecessor in that chair, but utterly un- 
worthy the consideration of this house, or of the ma- 
tured understanding of the noble lord who condescends 
to instruct it! Gracious God! we see a Perry re- 



156 EXERCISES. 

ascending from the tomb, and raising his awful voice to 
warn us against the surrender of our freedom ; and w r e 
see that the proud and virtuous feelings, which warmed 
the breast of that aged and venerable man, are only 
calculated to excite the contempt of this young philoso- 
pher, who has been transplanted from the nursery to 
the cabinet, to outrage the feelings and understanding 
of the country. 

Let me ask you, how was the rebellion of 1798 put 
down? By the zeal and loyalty of the gentlemen of 
Ireland rallying around — what? a reed shaken by the 
winds, a wretched apology for a minister wlio neither 
knew how to give or where to seek protection ? No — 
but round the laws and constitution and independence 
of the country. What were the affections and motives 
that called us into action? To protect our families, 
our properties, and our liberties. 

What were the antipathies by which we were ex- 
cited ? Our abhorrence of French principles and 
French ambition. — What was it to us that France was 
a republic ? — I rather rejoiced when 1 saw the ancient 
despotism of France put down. What was it to us 
that she dethroned her monarch? I admired the virtue 
and wept for the sufferings of the man; but as a nation it 
affected us not. The reason I took up arms, and am 
ready still to bear them against France, is because she 
intruded herself upon our domestic concerns — be- 
cause, with the rights of man and the love of freedom 
on her tongue, I see that she has the lust of dominion 
in her heart — because wherever she has placed her 
foot, she has erected her throne, and that to be her 
friend or her ally is to be her tributary or her slave. 



EXERCISES. 157 

Let me ask, is the present conduct of the British 
minister calculated to augment or to transfer the an- 
tipathy we have felt against that country. Sir, I will be 
bold to say, that licentious and impious France, in all 
the unrestrained excesses which anarchy and atheism 
have given birth to, has not committed a more in- 
sidious act against her enemy than is now attempted 
by the professed champion of civilized Europe against 
a friend and an ally in the hour of her calamity and 
distress — at a moment whan our country is filled with 
British troops — when the loyal men of Ireland are, fa- 
tigued with their exertions to put down rebellion— 
efforts in which they had succeeded before these troops 
arrived — whilst our Habeas Corpus Act is suspended— 
whilst trials by court-martial are carrying on in many 
parts of the kingdom- — whilst the people are taught to 
think that they have no right to meet or deliberate, 
and whilst the great body of them are so palsied by 
their fears, and worn down by their exertions, that 
even the vital question is scarcely able to rouse them 
from their lethargy — at a moment when we are dis- 
tracted by domestic dissensions — dissensions artfully 
kept alive as the pretext for our present subjugation 
and the instrument of our future thraldom !! These are 
the cirumstances in which the English government 
seeks to merge the national legislature of Ireland in 
her own. 

Sir, I thank administration for attempting this meas- 
ure. They are, without intending it, putting an end 
to our dissensions, through this black cloud which they 
have collected over us. I see the lidn breaking in 
14* 



158 EXERCISES. 

upon this unfortunate country. They have composed 
our dissension, not by fomenting the embers of a lin- 
gering and subdued rebellion — not by hallooing the 
Protestant against the Catholic, and the Catholic against 
the Protestant ; not by committing the north against 
the south ; not by inconsistent appeals to local or to 
party prejudices — no — but by the avowal of this atro- 
cious conspiracy against the liberties of Ireland, they 
have subdued every petty and subordinate distinction. 
They have united every rank and description of men 
by the pressure of this grand and momentous subject; 
and I tell them, that they will see every honest and in- 
dependent man in Ireland rally round her constitution, 
and merge every consideration in his opposition to this 
ungenerous and odious measure. 

For my own part, I will resist it to the last gasp of 
my existence, and with the last drop of my blood ; 
and when I feel the hour of my dissolution approach- 
ing, I will, like the father of Hannibal, take my chil- 
dren to the altar, and swear them to eternal hostility 
against the invaders of their country's freedom. Sir, 
I shall not detain you by pursuing this question through 
the topics which it so abundantly offers. I should be 
proud to think my name might be handed to posterity 
in the same roll with those disinterested patriots, who 
have successfully resisted the enemies of their country 
— successfully, I trust it will be ; in all events, I have my 
' exceeding great reward' — I shall bear in my heart 
the consciousness of having done my duty, and in the 
hour of death I shall not be haunted by the reflection 
of having basely sold, or meanly abandoned, the liber- 
ties of my native land. Can every man who gives his 



EXERCISES. 159 

vote on the other side, this night, lay his hand upon his 
heart, and make the same declaration ? / hope so — it 
will be well for his own peace — the indignation and 
abhorrence of his countrymen will not accompany him 
through Jife, and the curses of his children will not 
follow him to his grave. 



EXERCISE XJX. 

EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH OF MR. FOX IN THE 
BRITISH PARLIAMENT. 

I will, for the moment, put out of consideration all 
question of danger to ourselves. I will suppose 
Buonaparte to feel the truth of what he himself has de- 
clared, namely, that he despaired of success in attempt- 
ing a dissent. I will suppose that all parts of our 
empire are at present secure, and that even in a 
protracted war, there will be no probability, no 
possibility (if gentlemen will take it so) of affecting us 
in any quarter by invasion. Even in this state of 
security, however, what is our situation ? Have we 
forgotten the last two years of the last war ? Have 
we forgotten the condition of the middle classes of 
society in this island ; of every country gentleman of a 
limited income ; of every tradesman ; indeed, of every 
man in it who did not possess a very large fortune ; — 
have we already forgotten how the late war pressed 
upon them ? 

Let us recollect these things ; let us recollect the 
circumstances which occurred in the course of that 



160 EXEHCISES. 

war; what we all suffered by the immense loads that 
were laid upon us to support it — their grievous and 
most intolerable weight, and the cruel and grinding 
measures of every description, under which this country 
has groaned during so many years. Can ministers, 
with these recollections in their minds, bring them- 
selves again to precipitate their country into miseries, 
which, after all, might so easily be avoided ? What 
have we now to expect ? I have heard, indeed, some 
talk of an economical war. But even this economy 
(difficult as the word is at all times to understand, 
when so applied) is now explained to consist in the 
adoption of measures leading to an immense and 
immediate enlargement of our expenses. We are 
told that we must make great exertions. And what 
exertions? Exertions beyond anything we have ever 
yet known; far beyond what were found necessary 
during the glorious war of Queen Anne ; far beyond 
those by which we obtained that pre-eminence, which 
has immortalized the memory of the late Earl of Chat- 
ham ; far beyond even those of the late war itself. 

And by whom are we told all this ? If by some 
gentlemen who have had no experience in politics, and 
under whose guidance we had not already suffered ; if 
by some orator, as a mere figure of speech, without a 
meaning, and by way of a flourish in debate, — for such 
a purpose it might do well ; but we are told this, not 
by a novice in the art of extortion, but by an artist! 
If a man without experience or reputation examines 
my case when I am ill, and tells me, c You must have 
a limb cut off, to save your life,' I might still hope for a 



EXERCISES. 161 

cure, without having recourse to so dreadful a remedy; 
but if the skilful practitioner, the regular doctor him- 
self tells me so, after consultation, — if the experienc- 
ed operator under whose prescriptions and directions 
I have already suffered, tells me so, I know what I 
must endure. If he tells me, 'I must pull out all 
your teeth ; I must cut off part of the extremities, or 
you will die,' I have only to prepare for the opera- 
tion. 1 know the alternative is death or torture. This 
great artist, this eminent doctor (Mr. Pitt) has told us, 
that, much as we have already been distinguished for 
exertion, what we have hitherto done is nothing. We 
have hitherto only been fighting for morality and 
religion, for the law of nations, for the rights of civil 
society, and in the cause of God. Resources fully 
adequate to such minor objects, the right honorable 
gentleman assures us, we have already employed ; but 
now, we have a contest to sustain of a higher order — a 
contest which will compel us to strain every remaining 
nerve, and to call for sacrifices new and extraordinary, 
such as have never before been heard of in this country. 
We are told, that within a month, within a fortnight, per- 
haps, a plan must be formed for raising many millions of 
money, in a mode different from any that has hitherto 
been attempted. It is not to be a pitiful expedient for a 
single year; it is not to be an expedient similar to 
those adopted by Lord North, during the American 
war ; or by the right honorable gentleman himself for 
nearly the whole of the last war ; but it is to be a plan 
which will last forever, or at least, until two or three 
hundred millions be raised by it. Severe measures for 



162 EXERCISES. 

general defence too are announced to us, as necessary 
within a fortnight ; plans of which no man can as yet 
form a conception, but which ministers are to reveal 
to us in due time, and when they shall have reached 
their full maturity of wisdom. 

The income tax was felt heavily by most of the 
members of this house ; heavily, indeed, by all 
descriptions of persons in the country. I am speaking 
of the poor old income tax, not the tax now about to 
be imposed. — I speak of that mild and gentle operation, 
which seized only upon one-tenth of a man's income, 
and not of a measure which may exact a fifth and possi- 
bly a half ; a measure, too, which must be improved in 
the mode of its execution, since the greater the sum 
to be raised by it, the more rigorous must be the 
inquisition. Let no man now look to his holding a 
pound without giving possibly fifteen shillings of it to 
government towards the support of the war; let no 
man be too confident that an inquisitor may not be 
empowered to break open his desk, in order to search 
for the other five. 

And all this for what ? For Malta ! Malta! plain, 
bare, naked Malta, unconnected with any other 
interest ! What point of honor can the retention of 
Malta be to you ? Something of that nature may be 
felt by France ; but to you, I aver, it is, as a point of 
honor, nothing. ' But it may be prudent to keep it.' 
Is the keeping it worth a contest? Does the noble 
Lord think it so? On the contrary, is he not of 
opinion that it is not ? ' Oh ! but we are to oppose 
the aggrandizement of France, the ambition of Buona- 
parte, which will destroy us like a liquid fire.' We 



EXERCISES. 163 

have, indeed, heard some splendid philippics on this 
subject ; philippics which Demosthenes himself, were 
he among us, might hear with pleasure, and possibly 
with envy ; philippics which would lead us directly to 
battle, without regard to what may follow : but then 
comes the question. — What shall we have to pay for 
them ? What is the amount of the bill ? I remember an 
old French proverb, and I am not afraid of being 
deemed too much of a Frenchman if I should quote 
it ; the proverb seems almost an answer to one in 
English, which says that ; things are good, because 
they are dear.' The author of the French one, 
however, tells us that, let things be ever so good, yet 
if they are dear, he has no pleasure in eating them. 
Now so it is with me, when I hear the harangues of 
the right honorable gentleman, in favor of war, I think 
the articles drest up are exquisite, but that ' the cost 
spoils the relish.' While I listen to all these fine and 
eloquent philippics, I cannot help recollecting what 
fruits such speeches have generally produced, and 
dreading the devastation and carnage which usually 
attend them. 

The right honorable gentleman, when he appears 
before us in all the gorgeous attire of his eloquence, 
reminds me of a story which is told of a barbarous 
prince of Morocco, a Muley Molock, or a Muley 
Ishmael, who never put on his gayest garments, or 
appeared in extraordinary pomp, but as a prelude to the 
murder of thousands of his subjects. Now, when I 
behold splendor much more bright — when I perceive 
the labors of an elegant and accomplished mind — 
when I listen to words so choice, and contemplate 



164 EXERCISES. 

the charms of his polished elocution, — it is well 
enough for me, sitting in this house, to enjoy the scene ; 
but it gives me most gloomy tidings to convey to my 
constituents in the lobby. For these reasons, sir, I 
wish, previously to our entering into this war, to be 
told what event it is that will put an end to it. 



EXERCISE XX. 

THE CONFESSION FROM THE EPISCOPAL SERVICE, 

Almighty and most merciful Father, — we have 
erred and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep. We 
have followed too much the devices and desires of our 
own hearts. We have offended against thy holy 
laws. We have left undone those things which we 
ought to have done ; and we have done those things 
which we ought not to have done : and there is no 
health in us. But thou, Lord, have mercy upon 
us, miserable offenders. Spare thou those, O God, 
who confess their faults. Restore thou those who are 
penitent ; according to thy promises declared unto 
mankind, in Christ Jesus our Lord. And grant, O 
most merciful Father, for his sake, that we may 
hereafter live a godly, righteous, and sober life, to 
the glory of thy holy name. Amen. 



EXERCISES. 165 

EXERCISE XXL 
gertrude.— Mrs. Hemans. 

The Baron Von der Wart, accused, though it is believed unjustly, 
as an accomplice in the assassination of the Emperor Albert, was 
bound alive on the wheel, and attended by his wife Gertrude, 
throughout his last agonizing moments, with the most heroic 
fidelity. Her own sufferings, and those of her unfortunate hus- 
band, are most affectingly described in a letter, which she after- 
wards addressed to a female friend, and which was published 
some years ago at Haarlem, in a book entitled ' Gertrude Von 
der Wart, or Fidelity unto Death.' 

Her hands were clasped, her dark eyes raised, 

The breeze threw back her hair ; 
Up to the fearful wheel she gazed, 

All that she loved was there. 
The night was round her clear and cold, 

The holy heaven above ; 
Its pale stars watching to behold 

The night of earthly love. 

1 And bid me not depart,' she cried, 

i My Rudolph ! say not so ! 
This is no time to quit thy side : 

Peace, peace ! I cannot go. 
Hath the world aught for me to fear, 

When death is on thy brow ? 
The world ! what means it ? — mine is here — 

I will not leave thee now ! 

' I have been with thee in thine hour 

Of glory and of bliss ; 
Doubt not its memory 's living power 

To strengthen me through this ! 
15 



166 EXERCISES. 

And thou, mine honored love and true, 

Bear on, bear nobly on 1 
We have the blessed Heaven in view, 

Whose rest shall soon be won.' 

And were not these high words to flow 
From woman's breaking heart ? 
— Through all that night of bitterest wo 
She bore her lofty part : 
But oh ! with such a freezing eye, 
With such a curdling cheek — 
— Love, love ! of mortal agony, 

Thou, only thou, shouldst speak I 

The winds rose high — but with them rose 

Her voice, that he might hear ; — 
Perchance that dark hour brought repose 

To happy bosoms near : 
While she sat striving with despair 

Beside his tortured farm,. 
And pouring her deep soul in prayer 

Forth on the rushing storm. 

She wiped the death damps from his brow, 

With her pale hands and soft, 
Whose touch upon the lute chords low, 

Had stilled his heart so oft. 
She spread her mantle o'er his breast, 

She bathed his lips with dew, 
And on his cheek such kisses pressed, 

As Joy and Hope ne'er knew. 

Oh ! lovely are ye, Love and Faith, 
Enduring to the last ! 



EXERCISES. 167 

She had her meed — one smile in Death — 

And his worn spirit passed. 
While even as o'er a martyr's grave, 

She knelt on that sad spot, 
And, weeping, blessed the God who gave 

Strength to forsake it not ! 



EXERCISE XXLI. 

MEETING OF SATAN AND DEATH AT THE GATE OF 

hell. — Milton. 

Meanwhile the adversary of God and man, 
Satan, with thoughts inflamed of highest design, 
Puts on swift wings, and towards the gates of Hell 
Explores his solitary flight; sometimes 
II j scours the right hand coast, sometimes the left; 
Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars 
Up to the fiery concave towering high. 

As when far off at sea a fleet descried 
Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds 
Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles 
Or Tennate and Tidore, whence merchants bring 
Their spicy drugs; they, on the trading flood. 
Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape, 
Ply stemming nightly toward the pole : so seemed 
Far off the flying fiend. 

At last appear 
Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof, 
And thrice three fold the gates: three folds were brass, 



168 EXERCISES. 

Three iron, three of adamantine rock 
Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire, 
Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat 
On either side a formidable shape; 
The one seemed woman to the waist, and fair, 
But ended foul in many a scaly fold 
Voluminous and vast, a serpent, armed 
With mortal sting; about her middle round 
A cry of hell-hounds, never ceasing, barked 
With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung 
A hideous peal ! 

Far less abhorred than these 
Vexed Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts 
Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore: 
Nor uglier follow the night hag, when, called 
In secret, riding through the air she comes, 
Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance 
With Lapland witches, while the laboring moon 
Eclipses at their charms. 

The other shape, 
If shape it might be called that shape had none 
Distinguishable in member, joint or limb; 
Or substance might be called that shadow seemed: 
For each seemed either; black it stood as night, 
Fierce as ten furies, terrible as Hell, 
And shook a dreadful dart; what seemed his head 
The likeness of a kingly crown had on. 

Satan was now at hand ; and from his seat 
The monster moving, onward came as fast 
With horrid strides ; Hell trembled as he strode. 



EXERCISES. 169 

The undaunted fiend what this might be, admired, — 
Admired, not feared: God and his Son except 
Created thing naught valued he, nor shunned. 
And with disdainful look thus first began. 

c Whence and what art thou, execrable shape ! 
That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance 
Thy miscreated front athwart my way 
To yonder gates? through them I mean to pass. 
That be assured, without leave asked of thee: 
Retire, or taste thy folly; and learn by proof, 
Hell-born ! not to contend with spirits of Heaven !' 

To whom the goblin, full of wrath, replied. 
* Art thou that traitor angel — art thou he, 
Who first broke peace in heaven, and faith, till then 
Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms 
Drew after him the third part of Heaven's sons 
Conjured against the Highest, for which both thou 
And they, outcast from God, are here condemned 
To waste eternal days in woe and pain? 

' And reckonest thou thyself with spirits of Heaven, 
Hell-doomed ! and breath'st defiance here and scorn, 
Where I reign king, and, to inflame thee more, 
Thy king, and lord ? Back to thy punishment, 
False fugitive ! and to thy speed add wings, 
Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue 
Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart 
Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfett before. 5 

So spake the grisly terror, and in shape, 
So speaking and so threat'nin^, grew tenfold 
15* 



170 EXERCISES. 

More dreadful and deformed. On the other side. 

Incensed with indignation, Satan stood 

Unterrified, and like a comet burned, 

That fires the length of Ophicus huge 

In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair 

Shakes pestilence and war. 

Each at the head 
Levelled his deadly aim : their fatal hands 
No second stroke intend ; and such a frown 
Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds 
With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on 
Over the Caspian, then stand front to front 
Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow 
To join their dark encounter in mid air, — 

So frowned the mighty combatants, that Hell 
Grew darker at their frown ; so matched they stood ; 
For never, but once more, was either like 
To meet so great a foe: and now great deeds 
Had been achieved, whereof ail Hell had rung, 
Had not the snaky sorceress that sat 
Fast by Hell gate, and kept the fatal key, 
Risen, and with hideous outcry rushed between. 



EXERCISE XXIII. 

INTRODUCTION TO PARADISE LOST. 

Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit 

Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 



EXERCISES. 171 

Brought death into the world, and all our woe, 

With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 

Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, 

Sing, heavenly muse, that on the secret top 

Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 

That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, 

In the beginning, how the Heavens and Earth 

Rose out of chaos : or if Sion hill 

Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook, that flowed 

Fast by the oracle of God ; I thence 

Invoke thy aid to my advent'rous song, 

That with no middle flight intends to soar 

Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues 

Things unattempted, yet in prose or rhyme. 

And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer 

Before all temples the upright heart and pure, 

Instruct me, for thou knowest ; Thou from the first 

Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread, 

Dove-like, sat'st brooding on the vast abyss, 

And mad'st it pregnant : what in me is dark 

Illumine ; what is low raise and support ; 

That to the height of this great argument 

I may assert eternal Providence, 

And justify the ways of God to men. 



EXERCISE XXIV. 

EPISTLE TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ. CowpST. 

Dear Joseph — five and twenty years ago — 
Alas ! how time escapes ! — 'tis even so—- 



172 EXERCISES, 

With frequent intercourse, and always sweet, 
And always friendly, we were wont to cheat 
A tedious hour — and now we never meet ! 
As some grave gentleman in Terence says, 
(Twas therefore much the same in ancient days,) 
Good lack, we know not what to-morrow brings — 
Strange fluctuations of all human things ! 
True. Changes will befal, and friends may part, 
But distance only cannot change the heart ; 
And, were I called to prove the assertion true, 
One proof should serve — a reference to you. 

Whence comes it, then, that, in the wane of life, 
Though nothing have occurred to kindle strife, 
We find the friends we fancied we had won, 
Though numerous once, reduced to few or none ; 
Can gold grow worthless, that has stood the touch ? 
No ; gold they seemed, but they were never such. 

Horatio's servant, once, with bow and cringe, 
Swinging the parlor door upon its hinge a 
Dreading a negative, and overawed 
Lest he should trespass, begged to go abroad. 
'Go, fellow ! whither? turning short about — 
Nay, stay at home — you're always going out. 
'Tis but a step, sir, just at the street's end — 
For what ? An please you, sir, to see a friend — 
A friend ! Horatio cried, and seemed to start — 
Yea, marry shalt thou, and with all my heart — 
And fetch my cloak ; for, though the night be raw, 
I'll see him too — the first I ever saw. 

I knew the man, and knew his nature mild, 
And was his plaything often when a child ; 



EXERCISES. 173 

But somewhat at that moment pinched him close, 
Else he was seldom bitter or morose. 
Perhaps his confidence just then betrayed, 
His grief might prompt him with the speech he made : 
Perhaps 'twas mere good humor gave it birth, 
The harmless play of pleasantry and mirth. 
Howe'er it was, his language, in my mind, 
Bespoke at least, a man that knew mankind. 

But not to moralize too much, and strain, 
To prove an evil of which all complain, 
(I hate all arguments verbosely spun,) 
One story more, dear Hill, and I have done. 
Once on a time, an emperor, a wise man, 
No matter where, in China or Japan, 
Decreed, that whosoever should offend 
Against the w T ell-known duties of a friend, 
Convicted once, should ever after wear 
But half a coat, and show his bosom bare. 
The punishment importing this, no doubt, 
That all was naught within, and all found out. 

happy Britain, we have not to fear 

Such hard and arbitrary measure here ; 

Else, could a law, like that which I relate, 

Once have the sanction of our triple state, 

Some few that I have known of old, 

Would run most dreadful risk of catching cold ; 

While you, my friend, whatever wind should blow. 

Might traverse England, safely, to and fro ; 

An honest man, close buttoned to the chin, 

Broad'doth without, and a warm heart within* 



174 EXERCISES. 



EXERCISE XXV. 

THE COUNTRY EUMPKIN AND RAZOR SELLER. 

P. Pindar. 

A fellow, in a market-town, 

Most musical, cried razors up and down, 
And offered twelve for eighteen pence ; 

Which, certainly seern'd wondrous cheap, 

And, for the money, quite a heap, 
That every man would by, with cash and sense. 

A country bumpkin the great offer heard ; 

Poor Hodge, — who suffered by abroad black beard, 
That seemed a shoe-brush stuck beneath his nose. 

With cheerfulness the eighteen-pence he paid, 

And, proudly, to himself, in whispers said — 
* This rascal stole the razors, I suppose. 

' No matter if the fellow be a knave, 

Provided that the razors shave ; 
It certainly will be a monstrous prize.' 

So home the clown, with his good fortune, went, — 

Smiling, — in heart and soul content, 
And quickly soaped himself to ears and eyes. 

Being well lathered from a dish or tub, 

Hodge now began, with grinning pain, to grub — 

Just like a hedger cutting furze : 

'Tvvas a vile razor ! — then the rest he try'd ; — 
All were impostors. c Ah ! ' Hodge sighed, 

c I wish my eighteen pence was in my purse.' 



EXERCISES. 175 

In vain, to chase his beard, and bring the graces, 
He cut and dug and whined and stamped and swore ; 

Brought blood, and danced, blasphemed and made wry 
faces, 
And cursed each razors body, o'er and o'er. 
His muzzle, formed of opposition stuff, 
Firm as a Foxite, would not lose its ruff; 

So kept it — laughing at the steel and suds. 

Hodge, in a passion, stretched his angry jaws, 
Vowing the direst vengeance, with clinched claws, 
On the vile cheat that sold the goods. 
u Razors ! a vile, confounded dog ! — 
Not fit to scrape a' hog ! ' 

Hodge sought the fellow — found him — and begun — 
c P'rhaps, Master Razor-rogue ! to you tis fun 

That people flay themselves out of their lives. 
You rascal ! for an hour have I been grubbing 
Giving my crying whiskers here a scrubbing 

With razors just like oyster-knives. 
Sirrah ! I tell you, you're a knave 
To cry up razors that can't shave.' 

c Friend,' quoth the razor man, i I'm not a knave : 
As for the razors you have bought,— 
Upon my soul, I never thought 
That they would shave.' 

6 Not think they'd shave ? ' quoth Hodge, with 

wond'ring eyes. 
And voice not much unlike an Indian yell, 
6 What were they made for, then, you dog ? ' he cries. 
6 Made !' quoth the fellow, with a smile — ' to sell.' 




n 



IIIIIP 
HP** 



